Blind

Poetry speaks

Can you see?

I can't.

I've realized that.

I didn't notice by myself.

It took another.

In one way he was blind,

but not like me.

I cried.

He smiled.

We talked.

Well,

I listened.

He asked one question.

"What's it like to see?"

That's when I realized,

I couldn't.

Can you see?

That question scares me.

Blind I am.

I know that much.

Never do I see it.

But I do try.

I try so hard.

He saw it.

That old man.

I left after that.

More blind then before.

Can you see?

My family can't.

Neither can my friends.

But I can't either.

So I guess that's fair.

I went back.

To see the old man.

"How did you see?"

I had to ask.

He spoke little,

but said so much.

Can you see?

I thought I could.

Then I went to a blind mans home.

I smiled.

Just like my friends.

He asked what was wrong,

which was weird.

I put on a smile.

I did my job.

So why did he know?

Why was he able to see?

You see,

I didn't have a bad day,

but was having a bad year.

You couldn't tell.

Not from the outside.

Because I smile.

I love to smile.

None could tell,

none could see.

Which was fine.

But one who was told he could not see,

saw it all.

So I cried.

I can't see.

That I've come to terms with.

But what about you?

Can you see?

Reviews

[Anindita Janhabee]

Yes, I can see...yet I can't .. what's wrong with me..After reading your work...
Yes I can feel..yet I can't.. what's wrong with me...After thinking about your verse...
Amazing piece... one of yours best pieces...
deep and intense....
great job!!!
Anindita : )

[unspokenpain]

Thank you!! I'm happy you think that. isn't it great when poems pull on your thoughts and emotions ^.^