London Poem: Day 55

11 October

Be fair,
It wasn’t always my fault.
But, it doesn’t matter.
Sight is separated
And we fight to explain
Everything that transpired
Through our own eyes.
Blind to that which we failed to see
Through yours.
Two blind creatures
Hoping for the best,
To lead us to that self-gratifying
Truth, our truth.
Nothing is ever more right
Then when it’s said yourself.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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