My Right Eye Poem by THEODORE MOSLEY

His vision was marred with a brick of anger that was not meant for him.

Unconscious with sight he cries out in silence not knowing the battle ahead.

At the tender age of five his sight of life will no longer be as it should have been.

His optic nerve is quarantined from the brain of his impulses of the eye.

Blind from birth Bartimaeus reached beyond his salutation for healing.

Instructed to hold his peace his peace became his shield for overcoming others.

With hope in his sight his world of seeing diminishes with time.

His retina no longer has visual recognition for the brain to emulate.

When the ophthalmologist sends a camera to the eye the clouds of heaven are revealed.

The cornea no longer refracts the objects of the eye; dismantlement has preserved it beyond time.

Frustration has become a partner of his throughout times of self-pity.

The pain of his vision the weakness of his mind contributes to self-condemnation.

His peripheral vision is a total eclipse from the right side.
My right eye is a stage play of unwanted acts of curtain calls.

Written by Theodore Mosley

September 25,2019