Notice, those with hand clapped over resisting ears, when they remove them. They die too. Horrible. Softly. Screaming. Notice, those with hands open wide, arms stretched. They die also. Easy. Painfully. Silently. Notice too, those with hands pushing forward, toward the pained. They die. Swiftly. Praisingly. Hard.

Near everyone hurts. And everyone dies. And everyone suffers. Silently. Loudly. Screamingly.

There are those who ignore. Sanity is a slippery slope for them. Better for those in their way they keep it by painting their eyes with roses. There are those who love. They get hurt too, but they see it and can deal with eyes open wide. Then there are those who see the pain, see it and heal it and fight for the loss of it until they too fade away.

(I felt I needed to respond haltingly. A simple review seemed- insufficient. The blindness you talk of only affects those who die by it and those who can see those who are.)

Brava, Brava, Bravissima! I like the way you brought the whole poem around from asking if anyone hears at the beginning to speaking directly to the reader at the end. Good message, too.

Oh wow, I really loved it!

I like the message, and I like that it has rhyme but isn't pointless, as some rhyming poems tend to be.

Really good.

Ooh, very good. Really makes you think, and carries across an imporatant message really well. I really loved it - good job!