reality

our eyes blink open,
squinting through grey fog
to see clearer
the smoke and mirrors
of the grand illusion,
spot reality’s true reflection
through all its distortions.

we think everything is ok,
smooth like fresh paper pasted
to cover cracks in a ceiling,
though the house has crumbled
and only walls remain,
standing by themselves
in the middle of a blasted field.

--

--

Traveler, poet, educator, yogi, activist, artist, writer, British-Jamaican Londoner living in Ghana https://soundcloud.com/gracelouisewood

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Grace

Traveler, poet, educator, yogi, activist, artist, writer, British-Jamaican Londoner living in Ghana https://soundcloud.com/gracelouisewood