Ignorance comes from within.

I’m not a philosopher.

Nor a psychologist.

And certainly no poet.

What you do not know you do not care for.

Your knowledge is bound by your naïveté.

What do you seek in the world?

You know nothing of your real colors.

Of the ground you were born on.

Of the people who raised you.

Of the ones who struggled for you.

You do not seek comfort in your history.

Just the history of others.

Those far, far away.

But they do not care for you.

They don’t know you, foolish girl.

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