Another kind of dark

Tree branch scraping on the shed scared to death with feelings of dread so damn dark can't see a thing somethings moving and it ain't me i wish to god that i could see although it's noon blind as could be you probably wonder how this could be lost my sight..in 63 hearing is sharper than you can believe you never get used to what you can't see and now you never like what you can hear you stumble and fall and you don't care if you thought things bumped in the night before try another 40 years to even the score it's scary...i'm weary being in the dark it's so sad always missing the mark you never felt loneliness ..like this before so damn tough when you can't find the door hope one day to see a shimmer of light dreaming of the return of my sight until then...i'm in the dark bumping walls not feeling smart branch still scraping on the shed my sight has died and gone to bed

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