The Shell

April 1, 2011
There are clouds in your eyes,
And there’s the bright sun you can’t see.
There is a grave volume right in front of you,
But there are words inside that you can’t read.

You only hear what all the birds tweet,
But the emigrated robin you don’t believe.
You just see it’s red breast and brown wings,
Very few of you know that it also sings.

You see a little girl weep by the street,
You see blood streaming from her knees, you console.
Your job is well done here, you are satisfied deep,
But you’ll never know that it’s the cry of acceptance from her eyes she bleeds.

Black always isn’t evil just as white always isn’t the holy light,
Thump goes your heart and so does everybody’s hearts beat.
Sharp-cold ice can cut through your flesh and make you bleed,
But if you see, it too can melt with a bit of compassionate heat.

It’s funny you understand the worth when things are gone,
You are not ready to accept things for what they are.
You always yearn for changes and see the wrongs,
But when it’s gone, its return is all that you long.

Character is something you can point out easily,
Seeing that little girl sob and blue makes you happy.
All the tears she sheds in the dark night,
But the fake smile on her face in the day light is all you see.

To tell the truth,
It’s the shell you see,
Not exactly me…





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