I love a good eye,

Especially when mirrors grow inside...

Gleaming our true shards into others...

But notice they're still blind,

To whom we are...

So we must row down the river...

Call the dragons so that they carry us...

Another land,

Where materials lie...

We land so sudden,

And rush to the store...

Pretty items staring at us...

Dresses, shoes and accessories...

"I want to be beautiful for others to see."

How can they see when they're blind?

How can we not see this?

Are we blind too?

Maybe blindfolds are taped to our souls...

Walking haphazardly...

Wondering when we will grasp beauty...

In our own eyes...