The eyes are such an important gift that have lately been ignored,
Oh its mighty power to us has been given by the lord.
Seeing is not the same as observing,
Just like touching is not the same as feeling.
“Oh what is this mighty gift of which you speak of ?”
It is the power of true sight,
The differing factor that separates darkness from light.
“I am so glad that blind I am not”
That is indeed funny… chuckles
For that is not what the blind man thought.
“What do you mean wise sir?”
I mean what I say,
And I say what I mean.
Look at the grand trees,
Don’t they seem so green?
Your dark mind is brighter than you think,
The knowledge you have is infinite.
Yet you lead by what your eyes can only reach.
So look into these kaleidoscope eyes and tell me what you see.
“I see… ash grey, fog… a condensed mirror!
Sir are you blind?
How is it that you can see the trees?
Oh sir, I am so sorry, for you I grieve”
Why now young man, don’t be sorry.
“But my visible ability causes your invisibility.
My eyes can see and yours can’t!”
Oh… but you are wrong,
For did you see that ant?
“But sir she is so small”
Ah, see how limited your vision is?
It cannot see all.
I can acknowledge her pin like legs upon my old sunburned skin.
They tickle yet *****,
Like the cacti sharp pins.
I can smell the welcoming scent of the honeysuckle flowers,
And feel the embrace of the crisp cold wind at all hours.
I can hear the birds chirping like the most delicate and soulful song.
I enjoy my life a lot although I will not be here for long.
I experience it all,
Spring, Summer, And Winter.
But my most favorite is Fall.
I see the world through my sense
For me those are my lenses.
Dear young man,
It is for you that I feel sorry.
For it is you who is blind within your mind.
However it seems that you don't mind,
Am I right?
“Well I never thought about it that way.
I never thought about the way in which trees sway”
Ah, young man,
I may have lost the commodity of my eyes but you've lost your sight.
Not only left and right,
But deep inside...
Do you now “see”?
That you need no eyes to truly see?

I never knew what it felt like to have my Mama up close,
Never knew what it felt like to be enveloped in a blanket wrapped in the scent of rose.
It was never what I chose,
To wear potato sacks instead of clothes.
To be raised in the streets,
Eating scraps instead of meats.
Sell my truths for their lies,
Turn my eyes into midnight spies.
Sell my dignity for impunity,
Only for a false hope of opportunity.
Hanging shoes from electric wires,
Hoping to not be spotted by the church choir.
I never chose this path,
It was the outcome of the opposite of my dad's wrath.
I lost him.
His lips sealed to the beer bottles rim,
The liquor is his blood spilling to the brim.
Just like for me are the drugs,
My deal with these truant thugs.
I never chose this death,
The toxic fumes my soul expels with every breath.
This is not living,
Reeking with the scent of misgiving.
No one trusts me,
I can't ever remember feeling glee.
I miss you dad,
Your sadness before the world is now unclad.
My hands wield pocket  Knives instead of pens,
Protecting myself in the alleyways every bend.
I knew better than to wish upon a star that was just a satellite,
I knew that someday my heart would explode with overwhelming feelings like dynamite.
Looking into his eyes was like facing an endless void that would swallow you if you got too near,
Not longer can I stand this manipulative atmosphere.
Since mama left,
Papa feels this burdening heft.
As I lie under the midnight sky,
I can't help but wonder what it would feel like to fly.
I smile for the first time,
Regretting all my crimes.
And cry…
“Mama I'm coming home…”
I hope to quit this endless roam… “until the day I live”.