Blurred sight




It is what I see I make meaning of,

My feelings are mine so I keep discrete.

Truth be told I fear my dreams

A clear projections of what I believe

They come in various forms

Not following any norms or breaks any don’ts.


My reality my heaven

This is the place I can behold

Truth be told this is what I see

And it is what makes me sane.

The tangible, the believable, the real deal

This is the place for me.


My eyes, the very things I don’t want to see is what is brought before my eyes.

I thought eyes are supposed to see the best in people not the worst.

Is it a choice, is it really necessary? Did my confusion cause this?

Is it what it wants me to see or it is me who makes them happen?

I prefer the better ones but what I get never amuses me.

Truth be told what my eyes sees is never what I get call it utopia.


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