You think what you don't see won't hurt you

She is twitchy, her skin trembling,    
she leans back with head raised, eyes wide,    
nostrils flared, shifting her weight from    
one leg to the other, she paws the ground    
     
Horses are a nervous lot, what she    
does not understand, she sees    
as dangerous, so blinders are worn    
so she can only see what is ahead:    
     
Children grimy, wordless with empty    
bowls and eyes that scream, she sees    
the corrupt man cross the road, but    
these, that man, she has seen before    
     
But a raised fist, or farmers fighting    
for their fields, red placards and banners    
they are dangerous to the nervous    
a wailing of a world of the poor and pained    
     
but the horse relies on eyesight    
veiled by blinders, they are unseen    
and so she traipses on, and will not see    
what looms just round the corner.