Blindness

There is no beauty
hidden
here.
Only blindness
Blindness smeared all over the walls.
Blindness still.
Blindness silent
in the script of a made up language
sounding spoken confusion.
Shadows rise up the concrete
shadows climb the words.
One thinks the figures for people
man made names of Gods
calling themselves lovers
making themselves perpetrators
running from syllable to syllable
but finding no beauty to corrupt
but that of solitude, uncorruptable.

Cause there is no beauty here
of that of waiting dawns
of that of drowned ideas
of that firing hands of forgotten peoples
to shame the God we made up together
No
I am now almost certain that
there is
no
beauty here.

Certain
We've hidden from pain so well
dexterous morons
We've hidden
that no happiness finds
us anymore.

We live eternally
flowers growing in cupboards
parasites smiling in the darkness to miss us
missing the darkness smiling back sometimes
cripples of emotion for no eyes can see
so black and pitch is the ill sounding word
for so distant is the human experience

Our gray faces grow scared
our scared minds grow gray

and no beauty is born here
and no beauty finds us
and no beauty stands us
and its been so long since I've felt a man with eyes
that no wonder
no beauty
needs to hide
here
anymore.