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Blind Man's Tough
by Chris Sorrenti
talk about the blind leading the seeing
in front of my office complex
another shift put behind
miserable wind whipped day
two buses come and gone
sure one of them was his
though neither driver stopping
despite his hand sign
“Maybe they know something I don’t?”
with my best Good Samaritan hat on
I approach the man with the cane
“What bus are you waiting for?”
I ask
he replies
“What number does it say on my sign?!”
“Number 8”
says I taken aback
“Then that’s the one I’m waiting for”
“Well that one just went by”
he then proceeds to spew venom at me
as if his predicament … condition … whole life’s my fault
“FINE, SORRY TO TROUBLE YOU”
I retort … rebuffed … repulsed
quickly moving away
while he continues to mouth off into the wind
other bystanders come to my rescue
giving me the scoop
“Raised in an orphanage, never pleasant to anyone”
despite the clarification
my dark side comes out strong
pity overtaken by anger
for the first time in my life
I’ve an urge to wrap a cane around a blind man’s neck
© 2001
880 hits as of April 2024
08/29/2018 Author's Note: I guess it’s like Advice; If you’re not asked, don’t offer it.
Posted on 08/29/2018
Copyright © 2024 Chris Sorrenti
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/31/18 at 11:19 PM They (whoever the all-knowing "they" is) say never take anything personally. I find it hard to do, especially in this kind of situation. Life by Kathy Heatherly includes several pieces of her opinion ;), one which says: "People really need help but may attack you if you do help them. Help anyway." |
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