by Dr. Agonson

Terrified to write,
Is it truth or spite?
I walked alone in the sun;
next to me the river runs.

I say, “Such beauty,”
and you shake your head and turn.
“Wherefore,” I hear, “You drive the knife deep?”
I had forgotten.

“You’re blind,” knew my heart.
Yet I called to you, “Come and see!”
How could you see beauty with your eyes closed?
Shut tight, like Hell’s gates holding your soul.

I pray, “Open them God,”
My hope lasts.
Yet will you walk through?
Will you come and see the sun?