The Blind Man Poem by Michael Cochrane
The Blind Man
Sitting alone in a Dublin bar feeling sorry about my mental scars. I came across a folk singer, an Irish voice which did linger. A blind man began to smile on hearing the sound of an Irish air. I asked myself why does he care? Then I saw him begin to laugh and clap his hands to the Irish jig. My problems were nothing compared to his. If only we could see as well and realise we are not in hell.
Michael Cochrane ©
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5/17/2024 12:44:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
then I saw him begin to laugh, and clap his hands to the Irish jig. My problems were nothing compared to his, i complained that i dont have a pair of shoes until i saw a man crawling on the street road without a leg. thank u for this great reflection. it touches me and makes me spiritual dear Michael. tony