Self-blinded eyes are glued to minute worlds
That don't even exist anywhere but within them,
Forgetting the one they once saw with unimpeded vision
Through rose-colored glasses.
The one they wanted to change, but gave up on
Because something shattered their lenses and robbed them
Of their sense and senses.
Ears that once perked up at the sound
Of fairytales that lured out the stars and moon
And lullabies that laid the sun to rest
Hear nothing now but the drumbeat of the
Monotonous symphony that their owner composed
Because he was too lazy to add that extra note,
And too uninspired to care.
A voice, once filled with curiosity and the beautiful
Tenor of wonder and awe, burns now with the sting
Of cynicism and doubt that singes every
Throat. No cough drop can mend this sickness,
No matter how much it tastes like candy that
You aren't supposed to be eating.
Sugarcoating doesn't help anyway, right?
Hands were made to create worlds, to touch hearts and
Hold onto dreams so they can't fly away when
The moon sets and the Morning Star winks out.
Not to shoot down birds of a different feather than
We are, or to throw in the towel before the fight's
Even begun, nor should they be used to close doors.
Try opening them for once…
If nothing else, use them to break away the crust of
Ice around a soul, be it yours or another's, and
With your heart, keep it warm until it no longer
Shivers, but sighs and drifts to sleep in your embrace,
Like a lost child found again. Don't let it go until it
Can stand on its own, and even then, don't stray far.
It may still fall again.