Blind Eyes

I at times in moment of quiet reflection consider it unfortunate the scars so deeply carved across my heart and soul which take on no outward appearance, for though wounded there is no evidence to the world of these pains which have been suffered. Pains of loss, born through the awakening from flowered dreams of innocence and lies of eternal bliss. The question drifts through my searching mind as lone cloud in an otherwise empty sky: “Is it best this scar be concealed under the vail of summer cap or perhaps winter cloak ....?” Though the damage real and infirmity limiting there is no outward sign to others this suffering which is mine. No walk of altered gait, no deformity, no call of recognition which might bring moment of understanding and therefore mercy from those who would see it in their passing. But the scars of a broken heart do not call out making themselves apparent..... and the world takes no heed of that which cannot be seen through blind eyes.