Colour Blind

I was listening to a Phil Collins song about the homeless and this came out of it what I felt....

They were such strange looking glasses

That sat upon his nose

They seemed to be distorted

The colour of deep rose

 

He couldn’t see where he was going

And I couldn’t see the point

Of wearing such a bright appendage

When his sight it did disjoint

 

He didn’t see the homeless girl

Who cried out from the floor

Or the dishevelled junkie

Hunched up in the door

 

He missed out as the black was murdered

Just walking in the street

And didn’t notice fire unheeded

Filling the pensioner with its heat

 

So I took them from him as he wandered

And saw him stagger blindly on

Then realised with removal

His condition had not gone

 

So sadly I resumed my journey

And hoped one day I’d find

Someone who’d share my vision

No longer colour blind