It is exasperating,

When I cannot perceive,

The obvious, ...

Perhaps these days,

I mostly like the old,

Because it is what, ...

Clear,

Perspective matters.

Especially, ...

A fresh sunrise,

Or a lazy sunset.

From a picture, ...

Blemishes,

Inborn marks,

Age-old darkness, ...

Staring outside,

As sunny fields,

Fly by. ...

To judge,

Or to feel.

Sometimes, ...

To sit under a tree,

Somewhere over the hill,

Where no one knows, ...

A cool,

Sunny,

Serene day. ...

As days,

Slowly pass,

Please let them be, ...

Some signs,

Seemingly repeat,

So I can believe, ...

Looking down,

Drenched in shyness,

Lost in sadness, ...

When I focus,

On the task at hand,

I often see the obscure, ...

Some days I awaken,

To a barely visible road.

A path overgrown, ...

I like looking back,

As the years pass.

Each memory, ...

In the abstract,

I can picture,

What I dream. ...

Our final day.

Their smiles,

Will soon be a memory, ...

It was 12 years ago,

And a day.

One we’ll never forget. ...

I can feel exceptions,

By instinctive perception.

A faithful guide, ...

Distant fields,

Aren’t as far away,

As often believed. ...