agentofoblivion

If what is at your fingertips was taken away
Made a gift for a single instance of play,
Were the stars ripped from the sky before you
A single glimpse of them would outshine virtue,
Yet we learn to take for granted
The gifts we have been granted
If what you feel when you touch was numbness
Your tongue would know not but blandness,
Were the stars shown to you but a single time
You would rave at a sight so sublime,
Alas we take for granted
The gifts that we have been granted.