Blind
Blind
I'm blind by no chose of mine.
I can not see the flows grow or the birds that sing.
I can't see the blue sky or the planes that flies.
I can not see the children smile or why they may cry.
I'm blind by no chose of mine.
I can't watch their car that go by.
Or the band that marches by.
I can't see the stars at night or the moon that shine so bright.
I can not see the green trees grow or the cows walk the fields.
I'm blind by no chose of mine
Copyright © Harold Hunt Sr | Year Posted 2016
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