Blinded By Searchlights
I’m searching for something
I have no idea how to find,
Scrabbling in desperation,
It often turns me blind,
I can’t see what I’m doing
So I’m breaking things I like,
Through the green mist it seems
These pieces just aren’t right,
Like a jigsaw with missing corners
And bits from another set,
This puzzle that I’m building
Is built on concrete that’s still wet,
With rotten wooden roofing
And bricks of soggy clay,
I curse my home’s ineptness,
I curse me everyday,
Then as each morning rises
The sunlight turns me blind,
It shows me I’m still looking
For something I can’t find.
poem by Stuart Doggett
Added by Poetry Lover
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