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Unsightly
My vision is faded and no longer clear,
Where the sight no longer compels, from far or near.
Can this failure stem mainly from only old age?
Or just a normal passage of time, turning a page.
It seems that everything that is seen,
Is so new, yet without beauty or charm,
So I'm wondering if all else has been forgotten,
So as to possibly prevent any future harm.
Maybe it's my mind just trying to protect me,
From new realities that it can not prevent.
Yet if that's true, the handbasket's arrived,
As hell has delivered, long promised and sent.
It may seem like just one of the senses,
But in reality it's the most direct in my mind.
Since the light received travels the quickest,
Becoming perception like no other kind.
This means that anytime we decide to look,
Our sight must travel so fast to see.
Where it collides with an incoming vision
And we might perceive a harsh reality.
Copyright ©
Timothy Mattson
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