Friday, September 6, 2013

Blinded

Sun's shine widely spread,
How could we not feel the heat.
Moon's sparkle brightly lit,
How could we not feel a path brightened.
But sometimes
We pretend we don't feel the wind blowing,
Nor do we admit that the rain is falling heavily on a gray day.
We pretend we don't see the truth in the eyes,
At times we choose to be blinded.
We live in denial
Though we already know well enough
We are just so afraid of the unpleasing truth.

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