Grip
I am blindI have come to see
Fumbling my way around the world with merely my tricolour limited sight
my dull and mumbling hearing
my numb sense of touch
my scattered mind
and that dramatic heart
I am blind yet
somehow I can find some cord or rope
to hold on to
find my way back to when I slip
and follow
Because something in me says
this durable rope will not fail me
though at times
I may fail it
Poetry by SecretWords
Read 750 times
Written on 2014-02-26 at 06:33
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