On some mornings,

When sleep,

Played hide and seek, ...

In earlier times,

There weren’t so many eyes,

Constantly watching our lives. ...

Cool,

Rainy days.

When boats sleep, ...

In earlier times,

There were days,

When I craved words, ...

Sometimes,

Even the skies,

Feel sad for humanity, ...

During the years,

I made many plans,

Few of which, ...

Yesterday,

Sitting on the balcony,

Listening to thoughts, ...

We are born,

Pure, unaware, fragile.

With time and care, ...

Some sail the world,

To discover new lands.

Others simply desire, ...

I often close doors,

To simply be alone.

That is where, ...

Colorful flowers,

Brighten my days.

Even though, ...

When things,

Begin to fade,

It is likely time, ...

Today feels bland,

Rusty, never ending.

Yet it’s early morning. ...

Locks,

Keep danger out,

Or prevent a menace, ...

Thrown into a new world,

A language I hardly spoke,

Distance from those I knew, ...

Growing up,

Days were long,

Life was simple, ...

Life today,

Remind me of wildflowers.

Delicate, ...

In earlier times,

I often wished days,

Would quickly pass. ...

Walking past wheat fields,

Growing by our village,

I can’t help but wonder, ...

Maps,

Meteorological forecasts,

Or remnants of games, ...