Seeing the truth is at times hard.

Lost, missing, or hidden parts,

Make deciphering reality awkward. ...

Human bridges,

Built with patience during a life,

Remain sturdy and beautiful, ...

Often as we age,

The child inside returns.

Last night I couldn’t sleep. ...

When pressure builds,

And humidity is high,

It may not be a bad time, ...

When days look hazy,

I strain my eyes,

Hoping clarity arrives. ...

What is close,

I sometimes don’t see.

Some in life, ...

Today I tried to make sense,

Of old cables rusting in time.

But nothing worthwhile, ...

If you’re old,

Rusty and cracked,

It’s no reason to be sad, ...

Today,

I saw something old.

It looked nice, ...

One day he accepted,

That being grounded,

Was his life’s path. ...

Today’s windows,

Are the new kind.

For letting air in, ...

To see oneself,

Through different eyes,

Can be a gift, ...

Flying was once a dream,

And now a reality.

Feeling overwhelmed, ...

Glossy or matt.

Wet or dry.

It’s hard to tell, ...

When clouds,

Block my view,

There’s a good reason, ...

A few olden relics,

In time turn to classics.

They stay around, ...

Tonight,

The sky to red turned.

Yet something inside, ...

Reality is at times painted.

Disguised, in everyday life.

For some it matters not. ...

When a friend is close by,

Growing old is rather nice.

A familiar scent, ...

Broken, and

Trapped behind bars.

Some days feel strange, ....