An Innocent Mind
Raised in a home of traditional wisdom,
I see this world through hazy eyes.
Positioned in the corner of my little box,
I anxiously await a foreseeable demise.
I'll die unaware the teachings of Blake,
And as he died, I shall die the same:
I'll die in poverty with a hunger for knowledge;
Outside of my box, on a greater plain.
I desired perception vast as space,
To untie the blindfolds across my eyes.
I would leave this shadow we call home;
A veil God uses as Utopia's disguise.
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