Our blind eye is watching the events
but only looking the other way,
looking hard with our trusted blinds,
looking at the mascaraed.
our deaf ear to listen pretends
as we brush away the finds,
phony smiles meet us across the broken bridge
and we smile back bewitched.
the lightning strike is laughed at hard
cause the clouds are over the ward,
the thunder has to apologize and repent
because we are here living in the present
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