Illusion Poem by Erin McBride
Illusion
The blank space we create is an illusion -
the suffering minds suffering confusion.
Walking forth blind folded
creating the depth of the future -
blinded.
By illusions us beings created
to avoid trepidation
of the unknown.
Just an illusion
to simply;
be.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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5/23/2024 5:57:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
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