Poetry

The World of Black and White
Written by michael.m
On Friday, April 6th 2012

I never know is it morning or dark
I never know is it a beauty or a failure
I never know which road I am treading on
I just know how to walk and walk
With all the rest of my power
And with my eyes closed

The wind blows my face gently
Brings me cold and chill to my ashen skin
Finally I find my own freedom
After so long I was a prisoner
Of my routines and boring days
But not anymore

The scent of flowers softly fills my lungs
With the aromas I never smell before
Sweet like the Scily Isles
But tender like roses
I believe there is a garden laid before me
But how far and how big
I never know

Lone grasses and dandelions gracefully touch my hand
Softly linger with my fingers
I can feel the softness of silk
And the comfort of cotton’s fiber
I’m so happy
To find that my anguish and despair are gone

But then suddenly I stop
All the feelings disappear
Happiness
Relief
Freedom
All lost
I realize that my eyes are blind
And my heart cannot see the way forward

How can I know the world in front of me
While my eyes cannot see the reality
Then my steps are heavy and weary
I cannot decide
To move a single step forward

This is the world of black and white
Of life and of death
Of vision and of blindness
Of act and of waiting
I can only remain in place
Unless I can open my eyes once more
But when
I don’t know