The blind man and his dog

Excuse me, excuse me
Make way, he heard a voice say

The blind man and his dog
walked along his way
His one and only companion
for friends he had none

The blind man spoke
When I think about life
I like to slice it with a knife

We hold on to it tight
for this thing called life, right!

We battle and fight
for this thing called life, right!

behold I'm a man without sight
deprived of the colour of daylight
I have no anger, I have no right
As I live free of fright
Treasuring the fact I'm alive

I have no vision of black or white
Do not stress over my plight
I am the blind man with his dog
At night I sleep like a log
The earth is my rug
The air is my drug
with or without the nightly fog

I have a vision of beauty
of love and thruth
I have perfect immunity
of material wealth
I have appreciation
of good health

I am the blind man with his dog
I am thankful of all simple things
What joy they do bring!

Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi

poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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