Blind Spot

Part of me to which I’m blind.
It’s a part I’d like to find.

To the world it’s in plain view.
What is it that I can do?

Those who try to clue me in.
My tolerance has worn thin.

They speak true but I won’t hear.
All those clowns I won’t be near.

They have problems they’re not right.
They can’t help me with my plight.

Shelve those fools, put them away.
With such nonsense that they say.

Not just fools but many more.
In fact, all who pass my door.

Their true colors I can see.
I won’t let them get to me.

I’ll stay strong in this defense.
Do these things make any sense?

How can they all be such trolls?
In that thinking, many holes.
It’s not they or what they do.
It all rests right there in you.
That is fine, and that is good.
Do not be misunderstood.
If that problem rests in you,
There is something you can do.
See, you can’t fix those many clowns.
But you can bring yourself around.
They speak to darkness that is your.
They speak to that which you abhor.
Unsettled business of the deep.
They stir it up but still you keep.
That part of you to which you’re blind.
Those fools are helping you to find.
They’re showing you with what they say.
They show, but you push them away.
So, there you stay, in the dark.
You aim hard but miss the mark.
Listen to them, bring them close.
Take in every single dose.
You are blind but you can see.
With that you may be set free.
© 2019 TheRememberings Ltd.