Blind To It Poem by Phil Soar

I stole a look through drawn blinds
Watched across the street
As people came and left that place
Where death and happiness meet
Exchanging money hand by hand
In paper bags and envelopes
Sniffing through a long straw strand
And turning people into dopes
No sign of help for those addicted
No way to stop them seeking more
No rescue from the pain inflicted
No-one cares much anymore
I stole that look then hid away
In case my eyes should go astray
Blinded by the sense of guilt
Around the vision I had built