Painted World

The glass don’t lie but the twisted mind,
painted the world in sullied dyes.
And naïve eyes though open wide,
refused to throw out beams of light.

So I spun on feet that walk,
till truth up with me it caught.
And the real spectrum did I finally see,
in the dust of its splendor lies my misery.

For Nature though kind never forgets,
what she lends she’ll have it back.
But pity she would never take,
For her work I have ill counterfeit.

Cry.Black.Tears