A cool and clear bright moonlit night leaves nowhere to hide for me,
It bathes me in opal cold and careless light.
Leaves in trees hiss like an angry, searching sea,
squeaking branches creaking, crackle and speak to me.
Then my eyes come down a certain notch,
roofs and fences with glass pane eyes objectively, judgementally they watch.
The world is blended yet split in two or maybe could be three,
though none shall hear and none shall see the world the same as me.
Different actors directed, moulded, poured into me.
Vast gulfs in artistic choreography, divergences wooded or fluidity,
some public and others meant just for me.
No one sees the movie same as you through lenses tainted with others views,
I speak no wisdom. I see no lies this is the truth,
and just old news.