I live in glass, but still throw stones,

At things perceived through eyes my own,

Waves of youth and health, propel my confidence,

Why do some stay on the beach, I muse,

When the tide pulls strong and true,

Under a sky pale, pale, blue.

Curiosity turns my head,

Something's said from a different view,

I delve into the search for understanding,

Walking down streets I hadn't before,

Finding new voices to hear,

Discomfort in knowledge, less clear.

Swimming against the tide is hard,

Cracking I hear, but persevere,

Then see, my warps and cracks were etched long ago, 

Of others unseen, I'm now aware,

Yellowed cracks and dusty grime,

First slowly, then with gaining speed,

I clean and patch where most in need.

Today I am closer to shore,

Tides pull, but I pay them no heed,

There's power in clear sight, to think and choose one's course,

Zealots, bold in knowledge, still throw stones,

Seeing only one view's truth,

A tide that leads to war-torn shores,

But I, though broken, go forth seeing more.

disconnected disillusionment

inexplicable occurances

suspicion and self-involvement

terror and timidity

orated simplified solutions

readily swallowed reasons

disadvantaged demonized 

To distort the world before our eyes