Blind on the Highway of Life: A Satirical Poem
Helping a blind man across the street
how could I ever forget that grateful smile
for just a brief moment our eyes would meet
that empty look staying with me for quite a while.
It reminded me of so many eyes I had seen
not really seeing with blindness of their own
also reminding me in way where I had been
acting somewhat like that blind man's clone.
A whole bunch of white canes and a ball
like in some weird and surreal polo game
appeared in my mind as I could see us all
as if competing under our Olympic flame.
Not seeing tree while impressed by wood
we live our life story instead of this hour
blinded by winning more than should
in a search of our own ivory tower.
Now, whenever I see any folks with sun glasses
I wonder if their eyes just hide from the sun
or they are also hiding their blind asses
from my observing and having fun.