Blinded

Wasted as unfruitful morn,
of November’s cold curiosity born,

Aimless as the roaring sea,
Hapless as one could be,

Agonized as the struggling salmon,
Wading in waters, bear-ridden,

Threatened as the innocent boy,
By loaded guns, terrorized.

Parched as the infertile earth, barren,
Suffering under sweltering sun,

Helpless as the squirming insect caught,
In between hungry beaks, sharp,

Stung by disturbed bee,
Poisoned, unknowingly,

Withering, as rose in vase,
A slow death, a cruel fate,

Shattered as porcelain,
Dropped, mindlessly,

Broken as an abandoned heart,
Wounded, and shook apart,

Torn as the notebook paper,
Unfortunate as the wool that never became sweater,

Frigid on Antarctic ice,
Cheated as dream built of lies,

I’m blinded, can you ever see?
I mourn you, why were you so indiscreet?

Why did you turn away, when I did plead,
On my agitated knees, in all honesty?