Windows

Eyes are the window to the soul,

as I look I see the years taking toll,

a bit cracked, dirty and dusty

the light not as bright, but there.

Colors once bright, now dulled

by long years of struggle,

the doubts and fears still there,

the hopes and dreams

shining through cracks

within the darkened passages

that I walk along in the mind.

A dreamers life, a curse to some,

carries me through these places

as brambles and branches

reach out to grasp my thoughts.

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