My trapping of ideas

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Stained Glass hiding sunshine
Forgoing all glimpses of innocence
Transposing everything into something
Not just anything
Not right away
But...
Something soft, pure and unknown

At least all of these thoughts contain verbs
And at last my eyes wimper at the visions ahead
Containing a glimpse of yesterdays news
And a dirty word used for my minds trickery
Which is a word I cannot say aloud