I consider myself an owl that can see through darkness and disguise.
It's a great thing until I become aware that my vision is best at far-sights Anything too close is unclear to my eyes But either way even with this vision the truth is hard to unveil.. My feathers are like magnets to those plastic hands that come close and seem so real Those hands that don’t want anymore than to feel. When flying at a distance, from my sight, they appeal. But those hands appear soft & innocent just to lure you in & kill. So when I’m soaring through the night I’m left struggling to heal. Searching for anything left in the night that’s real.