Fogged over glass
broken shards tinted grey,

reminiscent friends, and family
with an eye upon my way.

My perpetual, inner longing
for those days will never end,

through all these hidden agendas
I can't see one true friend.

Am I blind? Or getting slower?
By each legacy that's made,

or am I clearly seeing visions
of values, that seem to fade?

Far be it from me to accept the role
of the corrector in such a land,

if I were even to suggest they're in error
I'd be dead before I took a stand!

Maybe that's the reason I find solace
in the things that matter most,

I marvel at life's melodies
and, try and sing them with all I've got.

I'd rather not start a ruckus
because I know it would make things worse,

so I'll keep a real low profile
while humming songs to avoid that curse.