One monotonous blink of the eye
To every day footprints treading
Not running, nor skipping, nor straying
Only one footstep
At a time...
In the direction of the rising sun
Where blind men see and the others...
Well, the others are imperceptive.
Metaphorical rather than physical;
Symbolic in its warmth and glow;
Ironic in the implications of truth.
Where do the others go?
I sit in front of the sun
Where it is most cold...
Verity loves humor.
