Blind

Buckling at the knees
Trying to stand against the turbulent wind
That etches these lines on my face
It’s not age, it’s disgrace
Fallen at every hurdle
I’m not Sisyphus
Never could be
My lips are burdened with the weight of frowning
I’m not an island
Though I tried to be
With all these thoughts
Taking flight like the birds
Around me
Gannets gouge my eyes
And Satan just flies on by
With the little yellow glint in front of their eyes
As they laugh and I cry
They are grace
But what am I?
Frankenstein
An arms race inside my mind
Trying to be of the world
When I’m blind

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