There are days,

I feel covered,

Out of place. ...

The grey outside,

Won’t enter a house,

Built of bricks, ...

No matter how hard,

An artist tries,

Beauty at times, ...

Splintered, frozen, lost.

In hazy memories,

Long gone. ...

Smiles are like colors.

They brighten moments,

In otherwise dreary days, ...

I like my world organized.

For reasons,

I care not understand. ...

I used to despise,

Grey foggy days,

When little could be seen. ...

Patterns hold stories,

Longing to be told.

Like snowflakes, ...

Small things,

Bring back memories.

Of innocent days, ...

It’s that time again,

When streets bustle,

Folks in costumes hustle, ...

Devoid of a modern device,

Unwaveringly he listens,

Without judgments or advice. ...

Only slices of me,

Can truly be seen.

Totality though, ...

I may appear cold,

To the naked eye.

But in reality, ...

Perhaps today,

I’ll dance with the lights.

Brightly glowing, ...

We spend our lives,

Searching for a place,

That feels safe. ...

Rusty, scratched,

Cloaked in time.

That is what remains, ...

Some days,

I need to stand alone.

Far from distractions, ...

It’s a milestone of a day.

To look back and reflect.

For the journey together made, ...

Perhaps it’s not,

The way I’ve thought.

My time’s purpose, ...

Heights are dizzying,

At times even scary.

But with head held high, ...