They say the eyes are the windows to the soul
The windows we only ever peak inside
More drawn we are to the colors of the trim
So focused on the facade we never see within
Do we ever really see what lays behind
Those clouded windows that once would shine
Panes now coated from years of harsh weather
That despite those tiny cracks remain together
If we were to wipe away all the years of grime
Through those panes we would now find
Memories neatly stacked high upon shelves
Meant to remain hidden not just from others, but from ourselves
S.M.
