Lifeless itches,gazing out loud.
Like black was my disability,
like my limitation.
Arrayed with watering blue beauty
saturated with sulfur and determination.
Open my eyes that I might see.
Open my eyes that I might let some stuff go.
Put money in my cup,
rocking the wall.
Blocked by a sighted limitation
denied smells of musty desperation .
Its was not blindness but a loss of vision.
Not blindness but a loss of direction,
Not blindness but “shiftlessness”
God why us
Faulty lines had me believe
I was blind.
Poet Krissy Mosley