Fragments of memory flash--
illuminating the past...
Or are they merely dreams
brightening what seems
to be a dulled existence?

Disjointed by expectations,
we plod along,
singing various songs.
Each melody reflects the present
entangled in what's spent.
Perspective may be askew.
Predicaments distort the old, dimming what's new.
A blanket of fog obscures my view...
Are my perceptions ever true?