The Find Print

Lost between the assurances and the smiles,
gazes promising it is no big deal
with trust me lips,
the fine print soothes the mind so seductively,
when there is detail, no matter its real value,
and with it comes power from phantom light bulbs,
surging with feigned credibility.

But alas,
our eyes see what they want to see,
bearing the voices of our heart
in sudden quickening of impulse,
finding so many giants of threat among the impotent gnomes,
missing the smallest clarity of profound
through orbs blurred
from focusing on what
has no pulse,
yet we give life.

One truly capturing vivid,
in a trance of deluded greatness
where denial sees truth
under an arrogant microscope,
never knowing the forest in the mind,
hidden behind the trees of imagined urgency
we grow in our garden of insignificance.