MUSINGS

Don't We Say That Love Is Blind?

Old minds with potential crammed inside unbreakable walls,
Never bothering to consider new possibilities,
Resorting to old, orthodox approaches.
And shunning radicals, regarding them with hostility.

He sits alone, crammed inside his musty proverbial cell,
He muffles his cries with the sleeve of his oversized jumper.
Just because he was different.
Just because he couldn't choose who he fell for.

Every passing second of his existence he regrets.
Showered with deathly glares of disgust, made fun of for a simple fact,
Regarded with disdain, sneered at, scowled at,
Greeted with chortles of barely stifled laughter; scarred for life, forced to start from scratch

I'm just a passing pedestrian, an observant with a heart of gold
I'm no fool for being broad-minded and understanding.
I know what I support;
It's the promise of love.

Love that ought to flourish and grow,
Love that ought to be encouraged, not crushed.
Love that ought to blossom, not wither.
Love that ought to shine through like a rainbow on a stormy night.

We may not understand them; they are unique.
They barely survive under the pressure and sheer hatred thrown their way.
Who are we to judge?
Let them love who they love.

After all, don't we say that love is blind?

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