Poetry of a Blind Girl

I feel sick

i feel sick

i don't know why

i just want to sit here

and cry and cry

i don't know what to do

i don't know what's wrong

all i want to do

is go where i belong

perhaps i belong at home

lying in bed

eating homemade soup

and a towel on my head

perhaps i belong in a hospital

ready to be examined

although i'd much rather be

relaxing on an island

i have little control of where i belong

little knowledge as well

but instead i'm sitting here

waiting for the bell