Our eyes only show us what we're looking for,
The things like bright smiles, winks, and belly laughs.
We train ourselves not to pick up on the gray things like
Side steps and shoulder shrugs,
Small memories shared in the moonlight that fall on deaf ears.

Better to be blinded by the truth
Than live thinking blue is the grass that is supposed to be greener,
Or that the sky is red because it's warm,
For that only means the world is burning down.