my empty head

My empty head,
Sits upon my shoulders.
Portals look out,
And survey surroundings,
Which are bathed,
In light and dark.
Sacks of meat,
Hang twisted,
Painted grey and blue.
Dull thump and a sharp pain,
Is not uncommon.
My empty head,
Is isolated,
Upon my shoulders.
It sees nothing of worth.
The eyes are a gateway,
And they lead to a cave.
Damp and cold,
In my empty head.
Aged and worn,
And lonely,
In my blank and empty head.