hazed

How long were our heads down,
eyes on the cement,
ears plugged and
feet bringing us forward,
yet our hearts are locked and left behind?

How often were we blinded by the haze,
not of soot but of emotions
that blur the thickest of boundaries?

How long did we try to
drown the voices in our head,
yet still struggle to
keep our heads above water?

How often do we enjoy
the beauty and clarity
of the blue skies above us
only to burn,
not trees,
but our hopes and dreams
and let the fire die out?

How often do we let the loud,
bitter,
pungent,
rough and
blinding
trials and tribulations
pollute the purest of souls and
take over the most sensible of senses?