They walk past me

 

If swooping branches hadn’t grazed their heads, they probably would’ve hit the tree

 

They drive past me

 

If high-pitched honks hadn’t pierced their ears, they probably would’ve flattened that old man in his filthy white-t

 

I doubt they’ve ever happily shouted, “Wee!”

 

 

A bucket of blue white marble dresses the skies

 

But I’m sure all they see is a garbage can surrounded by flies

 

In the center of town is a sweet-smelling carnival full of fun rides

 

But I’m sure all they smell is the salty sweat of carnival workers and their crafty lies

 

I wish I could change what they see through their eyes

 

 

They’re angry; They’re bitter

 

They’re tired of their child, so they rather hire a sitter

 

In and out they go, like a life drifter

 

Their eyes are duller than an old powdered sugar sifter

 

I’ll grab a brush so I can glaze their eyes with a glossy tinter

 

 

Because I’m tired of the men who walk past me mumbling a rude word

 

I’m tired of the enraged drivers who flip their cursing bird

 

I’m tired of them making the world out to be a giant smelling turd

 

I’ll inject them with a positivity vaccine because they’re an infected herd

 

 

They’re happy; They’re calm

 

Their face holds only the softness of a baby’s palm

 

Their heart beats the rhythm of a spiritual psalm

 

The scales of their eyes will fall off, if I could only change what they see with my special balm