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The Blind Eye
The human eye, a wondrous thing,
A lens of light, a jeweled ring,
It drinks the dawn, beholds the star,
Yet misses truth that smolders far.
It sees the shimmer, not the scar,
The silver coin, not who we are;
It notes the tear but not the cause,
Applauds the show, forgets the laws.
With effort strange, a practiced art,
We dim the conscience, blind the heart;
The mind grows sharp, the soul grows numb,
And justice beats a broken drum.
For sight is easy, vision rare,
To truly see demands we care.
And until love restores our view,
We’ll walk the world but not see through.
