Blinded By Their Right
Blind ... can be seen to find,
a mysterious fog ahead,
restrained by fury without wind,
Hot air born to burst,
about a front and behind.
Yet we don't see.
Blind ... can be thought to unwind,
a coiled raptor snaking below,
kept to a grassy den, undulations
Travel between a long, slow
reach and rewind.
Yet we don't see.
Blind ... can be heard when confined,
a silent sound etching against
the shameful soul, growing louder
By volume, out of control,
as if designed.
Yet we don't see.
Blind ... can be tasted when dined,
a savory dish serving righteousness,
giving the palate wanton flavor, that
Was craved and unconfined.
Yet we couldn't see.
Blind ... can be felt in the mind,
a hazy recollection that simmers,
from the flame to consume, the basic
Sight granted most of a kind.
Yet we did not see.
And yes, blind ... can be vengeful, if inclined,
a fearful hatred, often patient,
even measured, though seldom justified,
So it yields to a pulpit
where it's neutered & refined.
Yet we still won't see.
But blind ... can be removed by mankind,
a daunting task that's undertaken
in every home where the human heart
Resides, as understanding & tolerance
compel our vision, opined.
Then, we will see the sight for such
sore eyes, that now is redefined.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
