She sat in a little white chair in a corner of the waiting room.
A slight smile playing on her lips, while most other faces wore masks of gloom.
“What’s so funny?! You’re blind!”
Some frustrated soul barked as she merrily twiddled her thumb.
“Pulling a long face won’t make my wait shorter, so why be glum?”
Instinctively my own drooping mouth lifted mildly to the sky.
Isn’t it easy to feel sorry for oneself, repeating that eternal question, ‘Why me? Oh why?!’

Some people are blind by birth, some lose their vision along the way.
The most dangerous affliction, where you have the sight,
But you refuse to see things any other way.

A hopping bird, a toddlers toothy grin, the setting sun, fiery autumn leaves.
My heart bleeds for the miracles that her eyes will never see.
But the quiet resolve of her withered shoulders, testament to all that she has witnessed.
Probably more than you and me.

Then I think of the world today and the horrors it brings.
Atrocities seen each day, terror tearing lives apart. Humanity lost.
These monstrosities her eyes will be spared.
Sometimes I think it’s just better to be blind, and sit smiling in a little white chair.

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