Sight

Fifty percent of your vision is stolen
The remaining half is borrowed
You are not the kind of person to complain
So when everything starts to fade
You aim to let in more light, make do and mend
Just roll back the curtains further

The way things blurred out was OK for a bit
A momentary loss of sight
Often amused, particularly sometimes
When everything appeared alright
Sure, it ended up weird, when things disappeared
But it was no issue at first

There was just this nagging doubt around for you
That it really wasn’t right
And then there was that last day’s drive before dark
Autumnal mists and scattered leaves
And you appalled, discovering yourself blind
Needing insight from someone kind