An ironic vision,
I am often hit by
Walking in unison
But not really beside.

The blind
I think
Have better eyes
Than those who still need to blink.

And the deaf, I'm sure
Value the ringing in their ears
More than we do
The ability to hear.

The mute, if I were they
And given a voice
Would say only truths
And words of much wiser choice.

Lies we speak
Knowing not of their real value
Words we use
Believing in twisted perspectives
Of a simple truth
That can only be missed
By the intention
To be a part of that ignorance.

Names.
Labels.
Norms.
Words.
Whispers.

Thoughts expressed
And glady accepted
For if we accept our foolishness
Our cowardice might supposedely be revealed
But bravery will never bloom
For we shall never accept our naïvity
All in the name of conjured pride
And the inability to be satisfied.

If Romeo had been a Carl,
We would grimace at the name
And if Juliet had been a Kath,
There would be no beauty in that word.
So, if slippers were the fashion
Heels would be laughed at
And if T-shirts were formal
Blazers would be frowned upon.
So why go by the norm
When it itself is so finite
Why give in to ignorance
When you're born with sense
Why pretend to know
When you know you don't
And why make it so hard
When being good is so easy?