Life's Blind Spots Poem by Job Ombati

You don't play on a blind corner,
though some may dare do so;
laugh in danger's face,
poke a finger into it's nostril,
dance at sheol's open mouth
and walk away unscathed.

Life is a litter of blind corners;
spots where raw danger hums,
patches on death's deep fog farm,
where you can't overtake
and the car infront,
continually gives danger signal
and blocks your early death.

Blind corners
on the road,
where scraggy death
holds her hands wide open.
On street corners,
where death's agent
holds a dagger out of sight,
awaiting a fool's strays.
In the dark crannies,
of our hearts,
where evil thoughts crouch,
and the conscience overworks,
holding the 'Do Not Cross' tape,
and beyond,
is the precipice.

Life is
One blind corner
after another!

Poems for Humanity