How hard it seems
To see the world...
My own eyes fall short
Of the vision of other eyes
And somewhere
    these visions blur.

Streaks of color whirling by
Unidentifiable buildings--
Nameless shows under lights
And tasteless food on table tops;
Where is the soul of it all?

Lost in the movement
Swept under the rug like dirt
We try to hide stars in the dark
But they only shine brighter in the night--
Out of reach, but not quite out of sight
    these visions blur.