Rozniecki's speaker has lost the ability to see something that should be plain. The poem uses sight as a metaphor: blurred vision, glasses, learning to read "like a newborn." But the problem isn't really the eyes. The speaker is "clouded in too much thought" and "fearful of my feelings," so the more they analyze every detail, the less they understand. Other people offer help, yet nothing works.
The middle of the poem turns to hope. The speaker wants history not to repeat itself, then immediately doubts it, asking whether they are "grasping at straws." The poem suggests the speaker may be wanting to believe something that isn't true and living in denial, though it never says exactly what the truth is.
The mood is anxious, frustrated, and a little self-mocking. The last line, with its twisted word order, sounds like the speaker finally admitting the problem: the answer was in front of them all along.