The Things We Take for Granted
January 13, 2010
Filed under A&E, Top Stories
By Christian Mills
The blind can’t see,
The deaf can’t hear.
The things we take for granted.
How do you describe the sunset to the blind?
As the clock hits five
In winter time
The sun begins to set.
The many colors,
The pinks, the purples, the reds,
It’s like a sea of color.
Now it’s the sun’s turn to jump in,
It’s like slow motion . . .
Moving down an inch every five minutes.
This golden ball
Is drifting into the sea.
Meanwhile, darkness
Slowly comes and covers it
And eventually the sun,
Our golden ball of light,
Can no longer be seen.
But don’t worry, this sight can be seen again.
As the sun comes out tomorrow,
Its beauty will show
On the horizon.
Dedicated to my blind grandmom, with love.
Christian Mills is a junior at Pencader Charter High School. To submit a poem to The Poetry Place, hand deliver your poem to room 200 or email your poem by clicking the mail icon at the top-right corner of this website.
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