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Blind Ambition
I dwell in somber grays
hovering between black
and deepest blue
amid seas of troubled waves
endlessly cascading
before my eyes
while silent willow trees
sadly drape themselves
as if in mourning
and yet I seek not
the yellow of sunshine
nor the pink of roses
ask not for calm breezes
to caress my skin
nor embrace my heart
and my hands will always reach
to comfort willow trees
with acceptance of their grieving
for my eyes constantly crave
the myriad of imperfections
of life's truest beauty
and I will not gaze upon
the superficial
and deem it anything more
than blind ambition...
Copyright ©
Bernadette Langer
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