Were desire the sole factor
I would write not of the depths
But of the lives and loves
And everlasting joys
Then again, were I led by desire
I'd surely find myself a fool
Fallen under a lash of deception
Blissful in pathetic ignorance
Instead, vision has swept me
Taken me under the curtain
Where so many dare not peek
Blindness, a curse or blessing?
Should one strive to live
In the agony of vigilance
Or the comfort of unawareness?
Should skies read black or blue?
Yes, were it not for good sense
My poems would delve
But into my loving memory
Much good my sight has done me
Were I a fool, you would have me
Alas, I refuse to be lied to,
Stolen from,
Or taken advantage of
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Were I to write of joy
I would find myself insufficient
In experience
And in conviction
YOU ARE READING
Nothing I can do...
PoetryThis is the collection of poetry that I've written over several months which I will be releasing in parts.
