The conjunctiva, thin and clear,
A shield for the eye so dear,
Covers sclera, white and bright,
Lining lids from morning light.
Guardian of the tender globe,
In its care, no harm will probe,
Dust and debris kept at bay,
As you blink throughout the day.
Mucus, tears it does bestow,
Keeping dryness far below,
Moist and soft, the eye remains,
Free from stinging, itching pains.
Immune cells stand on guard inside,
Ensuring threats cannot reside,
Infections, allergens beware,
The conjunctiva's constant care.
Bulbar wraps the eye’s front face,
Palpebral lines each eyelid’s grace,
When inflamed, a pinkish hue,
Signals what the eye’s been through.
But in its role, it stands so true,
Protecting all that we see through.
