Glimpse – A poem

Perhaps our view of the world is tinted,
Our vision restricted 
By the vignette of a telescope 
(Magnifying the dangerous,
Like hopelessness and hope).
Or perhaps we’re merely peering
Through a keyhole 
(Waiting to be saved
Unlocked and released),
Or a crack in a wall
(There’s a soul inside you for a reason,
Maybe its split you trying to get out).
We spend too much time inside ourselves,
Our eyes are the only opening to see the world
But we hardly ever use them.
And when we do, they’re clouded
With colour or fog we let swim across our vision.
Maybe we’re just hallucinating, 
A spinning illusion 
Stuck in a maze of mirrors,
Because our view is consumed 
By ourselves.
The feelings we feel
And the thoughts we think
And all the memories we don’t quite remember. 
Our lives are lived in pieces,
Glimpses,
Just imagine all the things we miss
When our eyes are closed in a blink.