As I stepped off the bus,
I was late,
Late to realize that
I was dreaming in a dreamless
Day, darkened by the
Drawing of closed eyes
Fixated on snow etched
In barbed wires.
I had yet to awake in a colorless world,
Where eyes are blinded by pity and where
Beauty is thought to be memorized.
My eyes opened and disappeared into
The many faceless masks that are worn
to overshadow the magnetic pull
Of our minds,
which are embraced by
Us forgetting our true selves
And only relying on the seeing eye
Which deceives us,
as much as we deny ourselves.
I am late,
Late in forgetting
To remove my red rose
Where there is darkness.
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