The Blindman’s Dream

The Blindman’s Dream

His days and nights were both black
But the world never cut him any slack
He was constantly in the dark
But his mind was brighter than any spark

We had met more than once
But for him, I was just another one
In the dead, but  beautiful eyes of his
I always sensed some unknown fright

Never did I hear him complain
Nor did I see him upset
He was happier than all those men
Who claimed to have light in their den

He was as normal as any man could be
Nothing about him was any different
But the world with all its light
Always seemed so blind to his plight

This has always made me wonder
I couldn’t help but ponder
He was just another man with countless dreams
Would something change on having no light in his eyes

For the world, his dreams might not be much
For he could never think of anything
That we would treat as
 Matters of Consequences

Never did we face anything displeasing
Nor do we know the pain of negligence
We, who were always in the light
Would never know how it feels to be in the dark

His simple, plain dreams of seeing the world
In all those wonderful colours, he had only heard of
Wound sound so stupid to all
Except to those who use their hearts to see.

Those innocent feelings hidden beneath his eyes
That childlike curiosity that sleeps within
Can never be seen
By a man with eyes

But what I fear most,
Is the cold truth
That the world would look darker
if he had eyes

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