Something special in them An old man Beautiful grandfather Spectacles Perched on his forehead Sat to read the newspaper But everything was blurry He realized Where were his spectacles? He looked around Couldn't find them Called his daughter Asked her the same A moment of joy! Take her hand Did she To his forehead And brought back The glasses Straight to his eyes! What was radiant And infections Was the gentle Smile on the old man's And his daughter's faces One being happy at Someone's childishness The other In child like Realization!
From thin to thick, Varying in width and height, Glasses they cater, Like food in a buffet, To that lacking in eyesight that shows beauty and color, True color as I believe, Can only be seen by the blind, To learn to appreciate what you have none of, The advantage of that of the unseeing, That is what we should truly see, Like expecting the unexpected, We should see the unseen, And with that, Truly, Love is blind.
In '87 there was a band on at the Witchwood called the ****** Surgeons head surgeon was wearing a surgeon's gown wearing a surgeon's mask wearing a surgeon's hair-net delirium in the audience the band played thrashing guitars in front of a psychotic drummer behind the masked, hair-netted front surgeon 2 songs in, off came the hair-net 3 songs in, off came the mask 4 songs in, off came the gown a bare chested surgeon now wearing civilian half nakedness a huge sofa cushion appeared in the audience from out of nowhere into my face my beloved tinted specs flew into the moshing mob the chaos relented for a moment I searched the floor for my pride and joy finding them in multiple smashed, crushed pieces I could not see the band I could hardly see my hand in front of my be-cushioned face I left the show early as everything was blurry how was I to know? how a ****** Surgeons show would go? maybe the name was a giveaway. after a sofa cushion ruined my day.