Make Me Blind Again

Make me blind again

to the shadows of indifference

that spread across unfertile black fields.

I’ve seen your cold emptiness

and I’ve felt your bitter cynicism

take root in my heart.


Make me blind again

to the ravages of time

in my morning mirror.

Weathered wrinkles of shame

and failure and fear accusing me

of crimes only I know I’ve committed.


Make me blind again

to the white capped waves of regret

lapping on shores of sorrow;

my footprints left behind

in the intractable sand of the beach

of things said and done.


Make me blind again

to the bubbling poisons of disease

and the toxic fumes they emit.

Make me blind again to the inevitability and clarity

with which I see a future

of diminishment and loss.


Make me blind again

to the darkened skies and barren trees

of the black forest of death.

Make me blind again to all I know

because seeing nothing is the same

as seeing everything.

2 thoughts on “Make Me Blind Again

  1. Here is the only response I can offer to the words you’ve chosen to write to express such sorrow:
    You are important to me.
    You have added sunlight to my life with your friendship.
    That friendship has helped me cope with terrible times.
    You are an essential part of a troika of relationships that have absorbed me into their, your, orbit.
    My aging face won’t wrinkle because it is partially paralyzed.
    I see that every morning, too, and regret it.
    That is all I can say to attempt to slightly balance the darkness you face within and without.
    Love matters.
    You are important to me.
    Bob Katzman

  2. Dave, while disagree with your philosophy to make me blind again, it says a lot more then that I like your poem a lot, reading it again and again, and enjoying it each time. Your flow of word pictures lets me see what you are saying. You use the paint brush of words as a poet does.

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