An early conviction,
Which has left me bound, tied by strings and held down, unable to see the falsehood in intangible solids
Reminds me of the walls that surround a prisoner,
His vision accustomed to viewing the world from inside barred windows through cold steel doors
Never remembering the intense beauty of a sunset, or getting to feel it’s loving and nurturing warmth softly kiss the skin
A fiery-red, through a filter which has so effectively captured harshness, hatred, and rage
Fills his corneas and sit ever so lightly above a revealing color coating
Still burning, stinging the sights of anything he lays eyes on, until his eyes run
And now soft tears,
In an ocean-like blue, with such depth that shallow ends seem to be non-existent
Through a filter that was there with him for every betrayal, every moment of extreme paranoia, and virtually every unfortunate tragedy
If only he could show them behind the grayness which casts a shadow above the chin and below the forehead,
If only he can remember those times as a kid he had had with his mother, running and playing in the fields as an adolescent, laughing in a childish excitement which still echoes softly when she dreams of their old memories
If only he could remember what it is was all like before living through the filter