Pigment

 You can only see a small part of who I am, because of all the sand in your eyes, and how your world has been full of lies. You can’t see your nose because of your face. So here I pace back-and-forth in this place. Wishing for you to only see me.  But why I cry for the lies that I wish to unravel into a truth. Weave it into the fabric of my youth, to come out stronger on the other side. To be braided with my pride and show you how you can be true and no longer hide. We’ve all cried, we’ve all buried ourselves and died from the pain that we have self-inflicted. But this is how we depict it.  For the sand in our eyes has created our disguise and are fog upon the world. So this is our view of what it is that we see true by the scars in our eyes. From this pain from within that some see as sin  we can see it as a burden of the truth. But what is this truth that we seek from inside when all we are is buried in pride and pigment of our self.