Around us we look, but choose not to see.
Troubled by our blind spots, when left there willfully.
Whats there to show for every breath we invest?
Crown us kings of the ashes from the fire we set.
Around us we listen, not alone, but uncertain.
Heavy is our crown, and the weight of this burden.
Around us we see, and never for long.
But with those that surround us, I will never belong.
Of this they make certain, that we never find peace.
When the carrion birds circle, like crows to our feast.
Copyright © James Moon | Year Posted 2017
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