| |
Industries of the Blind
Looking for those you cannot find
Anywhere else instead of the confines
Of your own mind
Blind to the inner beauty that lies within
The end is where it all begins
It doesn't matter who wins
Rather, whether you let your light dim
In order to please those with sinister grins
They don't care
They won't share
Live without despair
Since time passes without repair
The gift is often rare
Swift is the knife
To the fabric of Life
Tearing a whole
Through the hearts that you stole
Give them back
Cut yourself some slack
Breathe with ease
As the weight of the world
Destroys your knees
Don't feel the need
To impede upon those
Who feed day to day
Keep track of what you say
You never know when it will be your day
Of reckoning so don't start
Beckoning Death to take your breath
Too soon...
Copyright ©
Issac Guzman
|