Blind

The park bench was deserted as I reads.

Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason.
For the world was intent on dragging me down.

And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,
A young girl out of breath approached me.
She stood right before me with her head tilted down,
And said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”

In her hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn not enough rain, or too little light.
Wanting her to take her dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.



But instead of retreating she sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise,
“It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful, too.
“That’s why I picked it, here, it’s for you.”

The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colours, black and white.
But I knew I must take it, or she might never leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied, “Just what I need.”

But instead of her placing the flower in my hand,
She held it mid air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting girl could not see: she was blind.

I heard the voice quiver, tears shone like the sun
As I thanked her for picking the very best one.
“You’re welcome,” she smiled,
A bright smile like a shining force which toward me.

There was a blind girl who hated herself just because she was blind.
She hated everyone, except she loving me.
I was always there for her. She said that if she could only see the world,
she would marry me.

Through the eyes of a blind little girl, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second that’s mine. Blinder

*Sent by mayday, 11st of December 2008.
Arigatou Gozaimasu!