How sad they must think us,
these beings who have never truly seen themselves, no wonder why they are so
wrapped up in their veneers,
gilded souls that hold so much
and yet are only seen for what can be seen.
Why who can blame them for shallowness of heart, their inability to reach
deeper into parts of themselves undiscovered.
It would not take much,
simply a desire to be more than this,
this lonely and wretched thing,
only a wreckage of chaos wreaked on the world.
Do they not know that
most of what they own cannot be seen?
That the most vital parts of their being
has no form to their eye,
yet valued far beyond the cost of their appearance.
How sad they must think us,
the stars,
who shine from within because of the beauty there, beauty and light mixed in unapologetic flair,
while we seem to be doomed
to repeat this miserable history,
all because we cannot see.
SK
