Blind is the night

Gray is the sight

Of the open hand

Beg to understand

I am here

Where are you

Open to my fear

So you misconstrue

Label me

As felon, addict,

Crazy, thief…

You don’t know

Meeting eyes

Is so limited…

So brief.

A moment in time…

Passes.

You don’t know me

And I don’t know you.

Yet we judge each other

One another

Based on our race,

Our clothes,

Our appearance…

Or lack there of

In society’s judgment…

When there is so much more

To speak…

Other than the avoidance of eyes…

On the street.