Every day on my way to work
I used to come across her.
In fact, I used to hide and lurk
waiting just for a glimpse of her.
She was a mere school student
while I an old lecher it seemed,
observing her at a distance was prudent
for I didn’t want to be a pervert, deemed

I admired her classic face
with lively eyes so expressive
as she walked at a leisurely pace
surrounded by friends so oppressive.
They held her hand and clung to her;
they wouldn’t let her go,
while she so stately walked there
making her friends look just so

One day I observed her all alone
standing at a street corner
unmoving as if carved from stone.
I then casually behind did wander.
Hearing my footsteps she turned behind
“Excuse me”, she said in a voice so sweet
“Could you help me, if you don’t mind,
I need help to cross the street”

I gazed deep upon her lovely face
Wondering why she needed help from me
Her expressive eyes did blankly gaze
At me without any fear or glee
With posture so serene and proud
“Could you hold my hand, if you don’t mind
And help me across the bustling road
For you see I can’t see and I’m just blind”

I realized it was only me
who always couldn’t see
It was not she who was blind
But my mind which had been blind.