The splinter in my eye, should distort my vision,

However life becomes clearer, almost to perfection.

The tiny piece of life’s ammunition

Lodged perfectly, unmasking all suspicions

 No distortion as of this fragment,

Each colour changed, every pigment.

A wound from the past, it can’t be removed,

The ability to see, those deceived.

This splinter a constant reminder of pain,

Brings a tear to me eye, an agonising strain.

Wherever I look, I see through a broken,

world, I hear of words unspoken.

Even through my new eyes, i see

My old life, trying to recapture me.

This splinter in my eye is there,

The irony is I don not care!

It guides me through life’s tricks and turns,

It highlights, fakes and helps me learn.

Reminds me if needed I can be stronger

A constant medal of being a survivor.

The irony is although it hurts,

I'd never take it out.

The irony is although it distorts

I'll protect its lodgings forever more!