28 November 2012
They assassinate him with piercing eyes and pointing fingers,
He walks on by with his head held high,
As I ache for him.
Poor misguided fools,
Lost of soul,
Fear in heart,
Out Of Love.
Yet to find their belonging, Yet without fight, Longing, Times to come.
Times long gone, Gone.
If only they knew of his heart so kind, His bright light, His peaceful mind.
But they don't look into him, They don't like what they see, And after all;
Appearance is everything.
Appearance Is Everything • Opuss № I