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by Richard Vince

The warning signs were there, of course,
But I chose to see how much I could
Hide in my blind spot, like when
I looked out of a train window and
Made invisible a rail I knew I could see.

It seems I was too positive, a problem
That did not take long to solve;
The first things that attracted us
Were the first things we changed.

Or is that true? Perhaps the open door
Was not enough, and so we invented
Someone to fill the room beyond.

Maintaining my integrity has been
A selfish endeavour, I see now:
In avoiding making truths I had to tell,
I built a larger deceit that formed
A heavier burden, my silence a
Bladed weapon that pierced
Too many innocent hearts.

Folly has taken me the long way round
To wisdom, and so I find myself
Many country miles from any amends
I could make, wondering how to
Find my way back.

And even if I could, what would we
Talk about? Conversation is
Yet another skill I mislaid somewhere
In that vain pursuit, and so
My ever open ear
Has no words to hear.

07/18/2021

Posted on 07/22/2021
Copyright © 2021 Richard Vince

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