You may not believe me
But I am truly a hurricane
And you've never seen the storm
Because you've been living in the eye
And they say the eyes are the windows to the soul
So you should be able to see right through me
See the gray cloudy skies
And the tornado heading straight for you
Willing to sweep away everything in its path
But you can't see any of that
Because you've never looked past the eye
I guess I know your scrambled philosophy:
Ignorance is bliss
YOU ARE READING
The Scrambled Philosophies That I Call Thoughts
PoetryThe scattered musings about love and life by a(n) (a)musing girl who knows little of either.
