I snatched my friend's glasses (a habit of mine
To peer through others's lenses and see who's blind,)
But instead of blurred figures and gray I expected
I gained mind-blowing insight on my friend's clear perspective.
Light flooded each heart
Like ornate stained glass art--
Flaws, dreams, hidden talents
Gave each individual harmonious balance.
But then came the hurt, the rejection, the loss
Concealed by laughter and sleek, silver gloss:
Loneliness, sorrow, vanity, hate
Which seldom camraderie can permeate.
Incurable diseases that needed healing
Overwhelmed my emotions and sent my head reeling.
First world problems, third world dreams--
Despite what's imagined, it's not what it seems.
Hedonistic, pessimistic--that's what's become of this age:
The book looks great until you read the pages...
So I returned my friend's glasses, startled by the view
Of intimate portraits I never knew.
I distanced myself and in spirit, I cried,
"Don't flee to me with your secrets to hide.
If I can't even handle my best friend's tears
Then who am I to believe I can tackle the world's fears?"