Is it me?
But is it me who can see or is it me who is blind?
For I see better what is unseen than that which is seen.
Is it me who is without feeling?
Numb to objectivity and awaken to subjectivity.
We are all blind in a world full of eyes. Captured in a land bland with lies...
hiding the beauty of truth in the open vicinity of the humankind.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world