SIT ALONE IN THE DARK

ALONE IN THE DARK
“I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.
I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.
Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of pudding.
Smells of...

 

SIT ALONE IN THE DARK


“I sit alone in the dark.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years.”

The anguish my mother faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.

Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

 

IN THE DARK

ALONE IN THE DARK

“I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of  pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years.”

The anguish my mother had faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.

The last part of her life
was spent in a nursing home,
suffering from dementia.
Life can be cruel.
Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

 

ALONE IN THE DARK

ALONE IN THE DARK

“I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of  pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years.”

The anguish my mother had faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.
Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

DARKNESS IS YOUR ONLY FRIEND

blind

DARKNESS IS YOUR ONLY FRIEND

A room full of books.
You can feel them with your fingertips.
But you can’t see a single word.
Your senses are sensitized.
Every single noise is amplified.
But you can’t see light.
Or colors.
You are blind.
In a world full of color.
Your fingertips lead you.
Your senses guide you.
Darkness is your only friend.

Image

WHAT DO WE SEE?

WHAT DO WE SEE?

We see the world through our own eyes.
But what are we seeing?
Do we see reality or our own perception of reality?
Is our brain filtering out what we don’t care to see?
Am I seeing the same thing as you?
I believe we all look at the world in different ways.
We could be looking at the same thing,
but seeing something entirely different.
I’d be curious to see the world through
a set of different eyes.
Who knows what these eyes might show me.