Prose
Prose
Maybe it’s like a fairy tale
Or
Maybe its reality
But you just too busy to see
The burning truth that is lying in front of you and me
If you put on a different lens then you will see
Maybe you should read that book backward
Because you say you know it so well
You could read it backward and you will lie and say you could even tell
Why don’t you look at the trees that well,
Their roots are in the sky there soaring high
Branching across the clouds
All you have to do is look upside down and you can find a better ground
Along the sky
Along the tree
Inside everybody
Staring at upside down trees
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Invisibility a gift or a curse
It’s one of those things that you think it’s a gift until you have to deal with it
Then you realize it is a cruse
When everyone else is engulfed in their own music
But not me
I listen because I’m invisible
Some rock and roll others opera
But somehow they work together
So I listen but you don't remember I'm here
You don’t remember my name
Not because it’s difficult to remember
But because as soon as my name leaves your lips
You forget in
I become a stranger, a foreign person to you
Because I’m invisible
Hidden
Seen to be unsee
Forgotten
The invisible people walk among us all