Poem For Critique Please?

~Be It Blinkered Or Be It Blinded~

It could be confusion that smothers illusion,

like smog rolling in from the sea,

or an abstract decision, without precision

that forges this doubt within me,

and yet I can’t find a reason to be blind

to all of this human debris,

while here at my feet there is chaff mixed with the wheat

rotting in various degrees.

When our children are born to a world forlorn

of anything too close to shame,

to these mothers so young, that a child should have sprung,

shows how society is lame,

but we avert our eyes up to poisoned skies

looking for somewhere to lay blame,

when all it should take to admit our mistakes

is admitting we are the frame

that captures this sad life in its terminal strife,

and fixes it to our will,

it’s easy to excuse, when myopic views

turn full circle and self fulfil,

and it’s easier to ignore what lays on our floor;

just things that happened to spill.

So my curtains I’ll draw and I’ll forget what I saw

and practice this ignorance skill.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Each stanza has 8 lines, all odd lines as 12 syllables with internal rhyme.

All even lines are 8 syllables and must rhyme with each even line within the stanza.