"Sometimes I wish I was blind,"
says the man that can see.
Where sounds become sight,
and towers are trees.
I wonder if color would remain
Aurora hues on a black satin sheet.
Swishing like they do, ever present,
forever would they fleet.
I ponder if noise would become
just a new way to isolate--
tone deaf to the gradual onset
of inessential claustrophobic shadows.
Sometimes I think, as I close my eyes,
This is how the World should really be.
1 comments:
I like this. And though I don't completely understand it, I am interested by it and drawn to it.
Can you include an explanation, or perhaps let me know of one? :)
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