Prism Spectacles

The dispersion of light,

As it falls through a prism.

Presents a paradigm of colors,

That I didn’t notice were missing.

Now I chuckle when I’m meeting,

Those who say seeing is believing.

Cause I am damned if I believe,

That my eyes can not fool me.

Exploring the nuances of my vision,

Allowed me to escape crafted mental prisons.

Because to sense what’s wrong and what’s right,

I need to learn that nothing is black and white.

With my desire to win big and be smart,

I know that I’ll still need to lead with my heart.

So that one day I’ll pass on what you can not see;

The virtues and morals of a person I’d like to be.

Work In Perpetuity (WIP)

There was me before,

and there was me after.

Like Pygmalion used his chisel to carve out his dream woman, I have spent a lot of time on carving myself into perfection.

And oh I prayed to the gods too, that one day “I” would become reality.

But the more I lose myself into my work, the better I understand that reality is not a craft, nor a myth.

It is the truth.

It is the impurity revealed to you, the one you can’t chisel off now because you have let it become part of the design. Though the feeling lingers that you should.

It is the sharp edge left by the piece that broke off, with its void providing the evidence of what once was, is now lost forever.

It is the trembling in your fingers when you take a step back and realize the chiseling and refining have shaped you irreversibly,

and how the truth could only ever be served whole.

I was exposed to a new perspective.

So I picked up my old chisel and my new dream,

And got back to work.