There I was, sitting with a coffee in hand, trying to figure things out when it came to my next poem
When suddenly I honed in on a blind girl, sitting with her aunt it appeared to me that this particular conversation to her truly did mean the world
Can’t see as such but on further gazing over no real part of her seemed interested in using her disadvantage for a crutch
A man next door upset the flow as soon as he began to wax lyrical about the many, many holidays he’d been on, could see from the look on her face that she didn’t need to hear this, hadn’t been abroad but that didn’t stop me from seeing that her tolerance for him was about to thaw
On she, he would go in their polar opposite ways, one boasting to anyone who would listen about his day, the other sitting alongside what now made sense to me to be her mother, only ever interested in listening to the right kind of people
She then mentioned just how much she looked forward to getting to meet her back from overseas brother
I smiled, this girl was most certainly making the best with what she got, whereas the other eejit was shooting himself in the foot right there on the spot

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