Blind

You think sight is something to take for granted?
That it will always be with you?

Oh how I wish so desperately to be naïve like you,
To hold and read a book,
Smile at the words and take them within me,
To write,
The words flowing through my pen,
And to watch others facial expressions,
Their stoic faces transforming into something akin to happiness and laughter.

I hate that I cannot see,
That I have been cursed to see only the shadows of the world,
These shadows are grey and black, no white and they frighten me.
I used to live in a world filled with color,
A vibrant existence shrunk to one filled with obscurities.

My eyes are useless orbs,
A waste of space now,
They cannot be used for anything.
It angers me,
Listening to others,
As they take sight for granted,
Laughing and cavorting without a care in the world.

Don’t you get it?
Sight is something to be savored,
To love and cherish,
No don’t look at me like that,
When you lose your sight you learn quickly to mourn what you’ve lost.

Shadows are all that inhabit my world now,
Horrid tendrils of darkness swirl around me,
Consuming my very existence,
Until there is no light.