The Blindness Of One Who Sees Poem by H E Alexander

I came out of the accessible toilet
past a vague and straggly queue that had formed
since the time I entered; women and men
with babes in arms. A neon sign informed

them of the "changing facilities" within.
"So what is wrong with him? " I plainly heard
a man say, to whomever, I don't know.
Indeed, with not a single profane word,

I should, of course, have walked away, but this,
truly, was not the first nor only time
that I'd been wrongly accused of being
culpable of this so heinous a crime:

the crime of using a public restroom
designed solely for use of the infirm.
Yes, in my rage, I did use expletives;
spitting such hateful words to make him squirm,

until a lady, I presumed his mother,
inferred it was I who should be ashamed.
But, I ask, is it really worse to use
foul language when feelings are so inflamed

or should not the arrant blindness of one
who sees, be perceived as the greater sin?
Remember, ailments may not always show,
yet still can cause pain and anguish within.