Please try to realize
that you're a mystery to me.
I can barely see past my present self,
much less put together
the puzzle pieces of everyone else.
But I try.
I ask myself, why,
constantly.
Hoping maybe I can supply
the understanding I so desperately seek.

Sometimes the woes of this world
leak into my personality.
But that’s not me.
We’re so much more
than what we’d have everyone else think.
That exposed exterior is inferior
to the interior of our individual being.
So what is it keeping us from seeing that?
Probably the same thing that blinds us
to the beauty of variety.
The attention in our eyes
is forced to compromise.
Energy wasted sifting through the lies
instead of observing what’s inside
all of us.

The glory of existence
is lost in worldly causes.
No one pausing to acknowledge
that maybe the way we think
is supported by some semblance
of reasoning.
The experiences of our parents
led them to our creation,
but we’re free from their expectations
based on irrelevant information.

We’re constantly and unconsciously
changing the way
we view the day
each day,
but don’t have the courage
to converse with those
who share in the fray.
We’ll distract ourselves
with frozen memories on phones
and videos of controlled moments,
and when the time comes
where the times don’t make much sense,
we’ll remain silent.
We’ll begin to take these thoughts
manifested in isolation
as universal truths.
And then wonder why our fellow man
is losing touch with us.

The state of our state
is not conducive to the way
we generate compassion.
So just ask them.
Take into consideration
the possibility of facts
beyond your grasp
and relapse
into that childlike ignorance
that is willing to give the unknown a chance...