People often wonder why I like to close my eyes.

How strange it is, to want to see without sight.

Or produce colour, where there is only darkness.

Sometimes, the world is too much. Too dull, or just all wrong.

Passing by the world, letting the good go blind and giving the evil spectacles.

Hindering my vision keeps me from becoming accustomed to what I see, and missing what I don’t.

Every once in a while, I’ll reach up, and close my own eyes.

Now I have all the tools I need.

Elements of my own imagination dance before me. It’s all perspective.

Seeing light and colour without open eyes. Fingerprints are my mask. This is my superpower. 

This poem is about: 


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