That everything is the same,

when trying to recreate

the notion of our lives,

the reality of purpose.

Seems we strive for innocence

rather than the drama of pain,

we wish to be honest

with the world around us.

Seems easier to imagine

a live of beauty,

a fresh snowfall

the blossom of spring.

Remember the time,

everything seemed in hand

life was simple,

the discovery of patience.

We have to understand

the turmoil we live

in order to process

the mystique of our normalcy.

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