
Blind to the Breeze
You move through life, a stone in the stream,
Unmoved by ripples, unshaped by dream.
The wind whispers truths, soft, profound, and sweet,
Yet they scatter unheard at the soles of your feet.
Eyes that see faces, but never the pain,
Ears that catch words, but not their refrain.
Hands that touch skin, but not what’s within,
A hollow connection, where love might begin.
The laughter around you rings dull, unclear,
A symphony lost to a tone-deaf ear.
Tears fall like rain you can’t comprehend,
A storm you ignore while the skies try to mend.
Oh, the walls you’ve built, so safe, so high,
Shielding the heart but dimming the sky.
Each glance a cipher, each voice a test,
The language of feelings, unlearned, unguessed.
Yet somewhere inside, a spark waits to bloom,
To break the numb silence, the self-made tomb.
For even the stone is shaped by the stream,
And hearts can awaken from the deepest dream.
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