Blindfolds

Perhaps

we are all blind sometimes.

Our vision becomes shrouded in the pitch-black

darkness of our own rotten words.

Our blood turns cold, emerald with envy.

Our negative actions act as a

blindfold

where no rays of purity are able to seep through.

 

Perhaps

our blindness is the cause of stepping off a ledge,

fear

heavy in the heart, and eyes completely closed.

As our vision slowly disappears, like buildings

obscured

behind thick sheets of fog, our words and actions lose their

sanity.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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