We Are All Broken
I live in glass, but still throw stones,
At things perceived through eyes my own,
Waves of youth and health, propel my confidence,
Why do some stay on the beach, I muse,
When the tide pulls strong and true,
Under a sky pale, pale, blue.
Curiosity turns my head,
Something's said from a different view,
I delve into the search for understanding,
Walking down streets I hadn't before,
Finding new voices to hear,
Discomfort in knowledge, less clear.
Swimming against the tide is hard,
Cracking I hear, but persevere,
Then see, my warps and cracks were etched long ago,
Of others unseen, I'm now aware,
Yellowed cracks and dusty grime,
First slowly, then with gaining speed,
I clean and patch where most in need.
Today I am closer to shore,
Tides pull, but I pay them no heed,
There's power in clear sight, to think and choose one's course,
Zealots, bold in knowledge, still throw stones,
Seeing only one view's truth,
A tide that leads to war-torn shores,
But I, though broken, go forth seeing more.