Are We Really Blind? Poem by Ganesh Veeraraghavan

When we sit near the fire
And turn the pages of our life
Some soiled some smudged
Some clean and some bold
Do we actually read it true
As was written few by few
Do we actually live our past
Or fade it by years passed
Some we read like it was written
Some we make it a little golden
Some we read like it was written
Some we suffer its heavy burden
Through our lenses thick with dust
We see it through the glasses of lust
The past we see through our present
A present which lies in the past
Is it just a play of Time
Is it just a loss in grime?