Let My Eyes Adjust

It’s a dead land out there. When you’re wandering on your own, lost in the wilderness. Everyone tells you what you’re doing wrong. They try to teach you how to make the path right. They try to wake you up into their dreams, into their thoughts, into their ways. And that’s the way of wise.

Under the guise of love and woke. They put their paws on your blindfolds, and they yank them from your eye sockets. Missing the fact that you see them straight in the eyes.But they know what they want to see. Hear what they want to hear. Maybe I can teach you a thing or two? Yet you rather leave me in the student’s seat. They put their clutch on your blindfolds, and they yank them from your eye sockets.

Missing the fact that you see them straight in the eyes. Perhaps I need a bit of mud and spit in my eyes. Let it be a bit distorted, seeing humans as for trees. Let my eyes adjust. Get your claws off my face before I lose it. Perhaps I need a bit of mud and spit in my eyes. Let it be a bit distorted, seeing humans as for trees. Let my eyes adjust. Get your grip off of me. Let my eyes adjust.

P.S I have deleted my Facebook and Twitter accounts. I might create new ones in a near future. I’ll keep you posted. I still have the same Instagram @ Aprosette and email available. Blessings to everyone. ~Ana

 ¬©anaprose.com 2020

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