First Slamwork, I'M Really Nervous

It feels as if this should be wrong But after today I don’t think that there is such a thing as wrong or right Because what if What if What if I have been going about my life with non-existent parallels, juxtapositions, black and whites? Not what if, but why? Why have I been wandering? Why have I been looking at the world through my eyes? These eyes, that are the spirit guide of my brain These two things, that have been trained, conditioned, and molded Into seeing Seeing and labeling Labeling and judging Even when my eyes see, when they take a match, light it Burn it Flare it Igniting neurons and thoughts that result it in a line of words and letters “I won’t judge” “I don’t care” “I’m not one to stare” Those in itself, in themselves, cause myself To be what I don’t want to be One thought, one red herring Destined to be captured and sent to one of two prisons Right or wrong Right says its righteous Wrong says it’s not righteous enough One is seen as week the other as too rough But why have I been listening to these eyes? That in themselves makes me a prisoner Two keys that force me to see in ways that I have been taught Why can’t I listen with my soul? And see with my heart? Because this is what I have been taught. But I can recognize that this train of thought Can be Derailed Redirected As long as I saw.