Vision
Dear Michael,
My eyesight is so bad now
I actually can’t see anything past my toes
Even though its just the ground
Then I look up
And the moon is blurred
Do you ever look at a mountain?
Or a famous site?
And don’t believe it?
I think things are projected
That they aren’t actually there
Seeing is believing, but I don’t believe everything I see
If I see the President, I don’t believe its him
If I see the moon, it’s just blurred light
How is your sight now?
I hope better than mine
But it’s not about sight, is it?
Because my vision is perfect.
Love your brother,
Andrew
This poem is about:
My family