You can bury your head in books,

Or strongly held convictions,

Politics and philosophy,

Parties, protests and conventions;

But what is it for

If they're just sand?

A rock to the world outside,

But of ages, turning to dust;

Fragile and insular,

Building barriers

To hide away the pain -

Not marked upon this unblemished flesh

By any razor visible to the eye;

Yet festering with outward vanity.

When the mirror before you is a portrait,

Of Dorian Gray

With a Midas touch,

But all that glitters is not gold;

One must learn to love again,

Pull down those graffitied walls

And barbed wire fences,

Open your heart to all around

And paint a bigger picture.

There is beauty,

To love the world

Again.