I don’t know whose granting wishes these days
Some sorry self-elect,
Maybe no one, maybe God.
Too busy to do their job correct.
Oh and your timing?
I was worried about my mid-life crisis
I can’t believe you had the nerve!
Specifically the right one
To take half my sight
Halve my ability to see your creation
What gives you the right?
To mess with a man’s periphery
Did I see too much? At twenty-nine?!
Explain that mystery to me.
You want thanks for the remainder?
Gratitude for my fortune?
Pray I keep my good eye
Till long after my son is grown
Or I’ll show you the true meaning of blind rage
You’ll reap what you’ve sewn.
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