the only way I could ever love myself is if I can look with rose colored glasses
but my vision is clear; lenses untinted and I can see all that I bare.

Hopping along in six inch heels, angling toward a mirror
A little Asian woman, must have weighed six ounces, coming near
Followed by a white guy, who held a **** party dress
His eyes were all on her in those shoes, and she spoke little English
I saw her distress, and the power this man seemed to have
And I could only think of one thing, ease her imbalance, make her a little glad
"Comfy?" I asked as she struggled and hopped in front of me
She mumbled and shook her head, but then there was that big "he"
"Looks to me like he likes those shoes more than you,"
The untinted greys in my hair flashing,
I could see she was doing whatever he wanted, afraid, wanting to look attractive
I see girls trying to walk around downtown in shoes eighty miles high
but at least they speak English and they're not potential purchase brides.
"Can you dance in those shoes?" he asked  and she shook and mumbled no
So he backed down, and off did those shoes go
Later I saw him buying her dress and a little bag
While she looked at Hello Kitty watches behind the ***** case of glass
He didn't buy her mile high shoes, and I breathed a sigh of relief
She may be in a precarious situation, but at least she'll have her feet.

my eyes are glazed over with memories
of a time when love was our treasure
with the wind at our backs
pushing us forward into a fantasized future
where there were no painful heartbeats
or second guessing of days to come
and your hand held mind with a grasp
tighter than the skin enveloping our spirits

my eyes are glazed over with tears
flowing like time in an endless rush
feeling the aching scars you carved upon me
when you shed your cuccoon for wings
on a wind that got you no higher than the ground
yet as far from what you were as possible
until you realized that the sky was a lonely place
and the world not so bright untinted of passion

How awesome must it be to be that guy in Lie to Me

How interesting would this life be to peel into Telepathy

Amusing

Excruciating

Anomaly

They tell who is blind for they cannot see

They shout who is deaf for they do not hear

They label who is not for they do not know

Down

Sorrow

Down

A never ending scene of entropy

Where lines are ignored when the points are crazy

Eccentric, Hysteric, Psychotic

Mere words thrown into antics

Actors

Flew

Pawns

While others see through the untinted air waves

Bearing the weight of the judgement of the stalemate

They pray patience to the fine line of difference

There is good,

Yet there is bad,

But they cannot say,

This is good and that is bad