I snatched my friend's glasses (a habit of mine

To peer through others's lenses and see who's blind,)

But instead of blurred figures and gray I expected

I gained mind-blowing insight on my friend's clear perspective.

Light flooded each heart

Like ornate stained glass art--

Flaws, dreams, hidden talents

Gave each individual harmonious balance.

But then came the hurt, the rejection, the loss

Concealed by laughter and sleek, silver gloss:

Loneliness, sorrow, vanity, hate

Which seldom camraderie can permeate.

Incurable diseases that needed healing

Overwhelmed my emotions and sent my head reeling.

First world problems, third world dreams--

Despite what's imagined, it's not what it seems.

Hedonistic, pessimistic--that's what's become of this age:

The book looks great until you read the pages...

So I returned my friend's glasses, startled by the view

Of intimate portraits I never knew.

I distanced myself and in spirit, I cried,

"Don't flee to me with your secrets to hide.

If I can't even handle my best friend's tears

Then who am I to believe I can tackle the world's fears?"