The Blind Eye Poem by Savva Emanon

The human eye, a wondrous thing,
A lens of light, a jewelled ring,
It drinks the dawn, beholds the star,
Yet misses truth that smoulders far.

It sees the shimmer, not the scar,
The silver coin, not who we are;
It notes the tear but not the cause,
Applauds the show, forgets the laws.

With effort strange, a practised art,
We dim the conscience, blind the heart;
The mind grows sharp, the soul grows numb,
And justice beats a broken drum.

For sight is easy, vision rare,
To truly see demands we care.
And until love restores our view,
We'll walk the world but not see through.