Often I wonder
If each eye, each lens
Filters light differently
Like the ought tinted windows or stained glass
And if so,
how do you know
If what you're looking through is Rose tinted
Or simply some thrones mass
As surely perspective is everything, right?
The way you see, the way you think
Like how dark grey light and gold light
Have different atmospheres, shades and kinks

But everything is relative
Maybe the colour of your lens can change
Perhaps if you peer into the darkness
Your mood begins to rain
And if thorny stems twist
Behind your eyes
When your hopes begin to crash
Maybe you could look into brightness
And find a Rose coloured looking glass

I wish it were that easy
But still the answer lies
That when looking for a rose looking glass
Try taking the thorns from your eyes.