FACING HARD TRUTH
Reaching out to adjust the Blur, it was as if my brain had an aperture. Imagining it turned slightly askew, My hands, touching nothing in bare air drew ,
Looky-Loo gazes,
quixotic askance expressions, a bevy that on me landed heavy,
from judgements of strangers in view.
With crystal focus to pursue. Instead , sin deadly vanity, reared it’s ugly head,
crowding clear thought , corrupting progress desperately sought , resolve the blur of imagined aperture , and admitting that I’m not quite mature