In a way I’m jealous of the blind man and he’s jealous of me, for the world he will more than likely never see. The beautiful mountains and the palm trees, the beautiful blue wide open seas. The bright blue sky and also grey, they want to see the beautiful world in every way. The beautiful women with the lovely eyes, he can stare into and become mesmerized. Waking up next to his gorgeous woman or wife, now here’s the reason I’d actually try his life. He’s blind so he doesn’t see all the corruption, the world trying to break you down to nothing. Getting judged by color or views, and how distractions become the more local news. They get to invision a perfect world and paint a mental picture, while I see the truth where the poor get poorer and rich richer. They can’t see a woman and go off her beautiful soul, while I see the best figure gets the most “love” in a world that’s cold. He sees no size no shape no color, while I’m suppose to be destined to hate on another. I wouldn’t mind having his life for just one day, where all the stress pain and problems involving sight trapped in my mind go away. I respect him and he respects me, the only time I’ll see his sight is in my dreams.
A sleight of the hand, a melodramatic move; Fate plays its final hand, A royal flush established, a victorious counter-move. Or was it simply you, in tandem with candor? Your misdemeanor forgotten, Simply an existential demeanor? How do you plead,
Mid this commemoration, Of annihilation Of inclinations And pursuits, My soul revels In these fervent goodbyes. The stiff and the spiritless, Scream my name. They exult and glorify This celebration. Agony, Candid in it’s certainty, Leaves always, To re appear
They minded their conversation, The ants that came marching in. Extra sugar. A little less cream. The foam from their latte circled their mouths, Disfigured steam still rising from their small cups. A light comfort found after a hard day’s