Blind Liberation

Too often we stand behind cracked windows and blurry mirrors
Outlines of a form, yet controlled visions by those that fear us
Guarded and detained by memories and privileged "heroes"
Reaching through with open hands, they won't stand near us
Still we continue with blurred vision, killing self by the numbers
System designed to fog lenses, prohibited witness to true abundance
Waiting patiently impatient, ignoring signs written with fingertips
Within our lips, gasping for air, hands tied behind our widened hips
Attempt to wipe away the frost, it thickens with social traps of hate
Debate, and win and we're proven again the loser in this race
Race, an indecent war, whispers that the -ism doesn't exist
We sit watching through cracked windows from bloodied fists
Craving true liberation in a world that provides no handouts
Engulfed and behind in a fight created to leave our man out
Standing behind gifted, blurry mirrors Definition with no clue
Until we stroll through our own minds, we are only proper for our hue
Hold true to anger, allow presence of a decently clever ill will
Continuously cautioned and processed to refrain our ill feel
No better time, no never mind, rightfully open our sleepy eyes
Cracked windows and blurry mirrors only disguised to keep us blind

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