Hindsight is 20/20
except when
what you’d been seeing
then, back then,
was larger than life,
grander than anything
you could imagine
and so enormously
out of proportion that…
now, hindsight is
microscopic
requiring
broken circles of glass —
that you try not to bite down on
too hard or else you might
bleed even more than
you already have —
to see what was
right in front of your eyes
all along
how minuscule you had
to make yourself
to fit into that space
that small mindedness
that box with clearly defined edges
(and no imagination)
but these are things
you don’t see through
rose colored glasses
their purpose only
to color inside the lines
with one conforming color
the vision of what
you were programmed
to think you wanted
that small sweet girl
and her dolls playing
make believe
building castles out of
miss-matched pieces
instead of telescopes
with which to see
the much bigger picture.
Poem ©2025 Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
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