| As I stepped off the bus, I was late, Late to realize that I was dreaming in a dreamless Day, darkened by the Drawing of closed eyes Fixated on snow etched In barbed wires. I had yet to awake in a colorless world, Where eyes are blinded by pity and where Beauty is thought to be memorized. My eyes opened and disappeared into The many faceless masks that are worn to overshadow the magnetic pull Of our minds, which are embraced by Us forgetting our true selves And only relying on the seeing eye Which deceives us, as much as we deny ourselves. I am late, Late in forgetting To remove my red rose Where there is darkness. |