Sometimes I wish that I were blind.
So I close my eyes that they might not see
the throngs of strangers passing me by.

Oh that you were near me once again.

Sometimes I wish that I were deaf.
So I cover my ears that they might not hear
the shouts and the moans which twist my mind.

Oh that you might speak to me once again.

Sometimes I wish that I were mute.
So I seal my lips that they might not utter
the bitter cursings that plague my soul.

Oh that you could hear me once again.

Sometimes I wish that I were without emotion.
So I turn off my heart that it might not feel
the pangs of solitude that devour my being.

Oh that you might care for me once again.




by Charles Fry
"Forests"