Some walls,

Are built to speak.

Influencing thoughts, ...

Bright colors,

Like sunny days,

Make me smile. ...

I used to awaken,

To the Rigi,

Calling my name. ...

What matters,

Stays the same.

Only how,...

Appearances are deceptive.

For the essence,

Which lurks underneath, ...

I spent years,

Trying to rise,

Above everyone else. ...

A clear sunny morning,

When my world,

Feels happy and bright. ...

Fog will come and go.

But meanwhile,

As clarity quietly hides, ...

A blurry world.

Tears or raindrops,

I cannot tell. ...

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. ...