Blindfolded

You should never look
At the ruins of history
Palaces converted into rubbles,
small thorny bushes growing
right where the throne
might have been

You should never look
At the urchins
Sticking their hands out
As you drive past them
On crowded signals

For when boundaries blur
Between the past and present
The future looks
All that more unreal
And insignificant

The rubbles and the urchins,
We can live without
Tinted windows
Sepia pictures in the
Glossy pages of the magazine
Bought from the faceless kid
Fragile kingdoms
A date with the ruins

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2 thoughts on “Blindfolded

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