What is that I can’t see, though my eyes seem bright to me?
What is it that is blinding me, though I think I can clearly see?
It’s not in the eyes that has my view obscured
It’s not sunlight or haze, from the outside that is blurred
Perhaps it is something from inside of me
A mind alteration that makes it so hard to see.
For that is something that is clear to the eye
A weakness that begins every sentence with “I”
It’s a hysterical blindness that is passed on to your view
It comes from too many people, yelling with you
They tell you what is true, and you struggle to agree
And with all that work done, you succumb eventually
You bend to the crowd that you gather around
And makes all your thoughts truly unsound
And even if the eyes may trick you some ways
The mental blindness increases with all passing days
You want to believe, to succeed with a crowd
Because it makes your group, not correct, but surely loud
And once together you are all of the same front
That takes any outside message, and renders it blunt
But it doesn’t stop there, when some leakage can be heard
When it is still possible, to hear a faint, discouraging word
It builds and increases without an end
Until your message can no longer still bend
When all that you say is repetitious and wrong
But impossible to stop, the ending, of a cruel song
Cruel because no facts can unravel it’s lies
And sight has been blinded, and undoubtedly dies
Even when there’s a knock at your head
That confronts you with the untruths you have said
When it numbs you to think that you may be mislead
But to continue the song is more important instead
And the thump is silenced by the will of the mind
And the eyes, working physically, are still quite blind
And you whimper with the sting of the invading salt
From the tears of recognition, that you’ve failed to halt.
In the back of your mind, you may yet see the truth
But it calms over time, like the nerve dead tooth
But you have all those others, still in your group
Until at last, your feast is only, rancid soup.