[Spoken Word]
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
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
If only he could remember what it is was all like before living through the filter, you bitch