Missing Pieces

The sky’s so clear

So empty

With every appearance of tranquility

But there’s things you can’t see

The visible spectrum

Our eyes see ten percent

What about the other ninety?

Who are we missing out on

What hearts are we breaking

Teardrops down invisible windows

I don’t believe there’s an old man in the sky

But the souls of the invisible realm

Can be held in my arms

And I feel them breathe

The noxious fumes of our guilt

Gasping, wondering

When we will ever heal ourselves