I am blind to what a bird can see
Trapped inside my own reality
Like bees go blind devouring a flower
Each one blinded by a stronger power
Let alone what lives outside of me
I fail to sort my own dichotomy
This cruel heart keeps wielding power
Over a defeatist head that I often scar
Fiery passions make me fall all in
Dissolving all sense of self therein
And when I repeat mistakes and err
I mourn over this self I let inter
I’m smart I know, but seldom wise
The reason I let sagacity capsize
Lying my way being what I am not
And putting myself often on the spot
I better wait for old age to set in
At least the heart would then give in
I’d stoop and mellow and humble in age
The power of time freeing all bondage.
