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
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice and touchy poem U ve written. really I loved it.