If I can be so modest,
Even if I do say so myself
I’m not too bad looking,
Not ready to sit upon a shelf.

I have a sense of humour,
And can be quite sharp witted too
And when I fall in love
It’s always ‘cause I’m true.

I have a real deep emotion
And a sense of empathy,
I make a friend for life
And have a sense of loyalty.

I have a question to ask you,
Could someone fall for me?
I hear you say “you don’t see why not”
But it’s not like ABC.

I hear you ask the question “why?”
And I have to say with some despair,
It’s because they don’t see what’s above
They can’t see beyond my chair.

I do not have the use of legs,
And my hands, they have no feeling,
But for me that doesn’t mean to say,
That life can have no meaning.

The chair is just a part of me,
It’s not actually who I am
It’s just a chair I sit in,
I’m still a real man!

So, if what’s important in life
Is love and security,
Could you do much worse in life
Than choose someone like me?


Steve Collins 28/4/08

I’m running out of words,
It’s getting hard to write my thoughts.
I’m slowly becoming frightened;
Not able to write any more,
But, I’ve still got words to write!
Slowly becoming scared –
Scared of being alone.

The only way I know how to say what I want,
And it’s slowly getting harder.
I’m frightened.... without words.

I’m a lonely man!

Nothing to write but words,
Nothing to say but lies;
Nothing to think but thoughts,
Nothing to do but cry.

Nothing to love but people,
Nothing to hate but life;
Nothing to do but walk,
Nowhere to go – so stop.

Nothing to do but die;
Nothing to do but call.
Nothing to help;
Oh-well, life’s not so bad after all!

The thoughts they hurt,
The tears, they’re hidden.
The love, it’s disguised;
The question why?

The emptiness it’s painful,
The image, it’s false.
The truth, the lies,
The question: why?


Steve Collins

I speak to you through my words
For all the things you haven’t heard.
For the good times and the bad times,
I would like to tell you, how
Much I appreciate,
The love and worry that you give.
I want you to forgive me
For my actions,
Forgive me for my words,
Because I didn’t mean them
To be upsetting;
It’s just the way I am.
But, I would like to say one thing;
You have helped me through
The bad times,
Pulled me through the sad times.
And, now I wish to help you, because
I love you too!
And I will start by saying.....Thank you!



Steve Collins

Funny how, in a crowded room,
You can feel all alone.    
Funny how, speaking on the telephone,
You can feel on your own.

Funny how, with family by your side,
You can feel dead inside.
Funny how, when friends come round,
You can feel like you’ve drowned.

Funny how, when you laugh and joke,
You can hide behind the smoke.
Funny how, when you smile,
You really want to run a mile.

Funny how, people think your smart,
You can be a master of your art.
Funny how, people think you care,
You know ‘cause your not there.

Funny how, you thought you wanted out,
You now know what’s that’s all about.
Funny how, you live your life in pain,
You get a second chance, but do the same.

Funny how, you think you have it bad,
You know your slightly close to mad.
Funny how, you won’t face the truth,
You know there is more than just you.

Funny how, I say you - when I mean I.
You want to live,
I’d like to die.



Steve Collins
September 1st 2008.

Children of the world,
Look at what is written.
And, remember you’ll,
Never be forgotten.

All the homeless and lonely
Victims of life;
  I want to help you
Tell the world,
That mankind is not right.

You are so innocent,
And you’re not really alone.
You’re forced by us blind people,
You’re pushed from your homes.

I remember what it’s like
To be young.
And, I’m trying not to be
A foolish adult,
Who pretends to be blind.

I promise to myself
That I won’t pretend;
To ignore all the children
Who just need a hand.

And, it’s only us blind people
Who have the power to help.
If it were your child,
Or even yourself.

You’d be the first,
To scream and to cry.
And, you’d tell us adults
That children..... really do die.

Please think of
How lucky you are.
‘Cause if time had been,
Different when you were
A child;

You’d be the one scared;
A fighter running wild.
You’d be the first
To want people to give.

And, you’d be the one,
Trying hardest to live!


By Steve Collins