How the greenery was brighter then, rose colored glasses. The sorrow kept within me dragging down like weeping willows. The bees hum slowly moving, time didnt matter then, the hourglass sandless. Birds flying cross the sky like airplanes swiftly, to be a wandering soul but flightless is like clipping the wings off a blue Jay. Soft clouds only seen if you look up, but looking up makes for wandering eyes. Everything was good then it seemed, I look up. I look.