blurry vision (poetry for the insane)

everything made more sense when i was blind.
now, my vision misleads me toward a path i used to not see
i used to be locked in a room illuminated darkly by clouded lights
now it clears and steers me toward an opening, in the corner, small, a mystery
i crawl in, like an insect, and it hits me
confusion
fear
but i stay on track, not giving up, never giving up
trying to understand where i am and why
i want to cry and laugh at the same time
why?
my eyes used to make more sense when i was blind
i know
ignorance is swiss, full of holes and cholesterol
so,
what makes a man be a man?
vision
what makes a man kill a man?
nuclear fission
what makes a man make sense?
not this poem but the point remains: i saw a ghost.
and i still see it now, in front of me
it haunts me by reminding me that history is bound to be repeated
unless your vision of it is completed and ctrl-alt-deleted, twice
or thrice
or maybe fourth time's the charm
if it doesn't work on the fifth then sound the alarm
six times, plus one for good luck, seven's ok but eight really sucks
nine makes me wonder if i'm still awake
if ten makes this poem i may need a break,
because it's too late to really see what i need
my blurry vision got better but i still don't have speed
so,
what?
what's the point? does there have to be one?
good night.
i'm tired
this isn't fun.