Your curtain of pride has blinded you now,
Your human is unconscious,
Your conscious now seem fictious,
You're loosing to your pride,
Wrong can't favour mind and build strong,
Ego favours weak mind and that can't build strong.
Your eyes, your nose, your fingers, finger nails,
Shine out bright lights, may even blind eyes,
Your eyes ,your ears, your head till your toes,
Shine out blind Ray's, invisible to my heart.
You smile then smirk then stretch your arms,
Your eyes they look and stretch your pride,
"It's hills" you say, but I see a mountain,
Your hills may seem fair, but I really see a mountain,
Erupting and bursting, exploading with ego.
YOU ARE READING
I Wrote It All For Me
PoetryPoems. For myself, of my moods, my life, just me and my feelings. Most of them are fictious (or are they?). I'll leave it to you readers, let your imagination wander.
