Blindfold to the daylight of memories,
She slept adamantly.
Hugging her companions-
A mobile, the television remote,
A cordless phone, a Calvino.
A blanket “full of warmth”
When it had been sold.
A laptop, a pen, a notebook;
The day’s newspaper supplement-
“Which film- when and where” it told.
An everyday afternoon,
Dozing over overdoses of news,
Here was death, and here how the channel sold.
The daylight of memories started fading,
Stories stayed untold.
Blindfold she was as she slept,
Shutting out being shot at;
Snugly, cosily, even sadly-
She tried catching up on all the sleep
She had missed.
That would be safe indeed,
Being blindfold.
1 comment:
What a lovely way to paint the true image of today's media personal.
Enjoyed the rhyme, and the sad tale of the helpless "blind"fold,we have become with time!
Thanks for sharing
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