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Blind Girl
I look through old photo albums,
Pictures from so long ago,
Finding a blonde child,
Of the mere age of 4.
See the sparkle in her eyes,
So pretty and blue,
The wind flowing through her fine hair,
Running through the yard.
The sign of a happy child,
Unaware of the truth,
The sad pitiful truth,
Oblivious to the world around her.
She will soon grow up to see the world,
For the way it's supposed to be seen,
Dirty and a disgrace,
Conquered by hate.
Those beautiful blue eyes so blind,
Receiving sight some day,
As those eyes wish to be blind again,
And no longer see the truth.
The little girl unaware of the facts,
Hiding from the truths in fairy tales,
Wishing to live in an imaginary place,
This little girl is me.
