People see me,
And they see,
A losing battle,
Or so I think,

People see me,
And they see,
What once could've been a masterpiece,
Now shattering,
Or so I think,

People see me,
And they see,
A fool in wise man's clothing,
Or so I think,

I could be wrong.

I see with my eyes,
Critical eyes that cut through the lies that I tell myself daily,

I don't have 20/20 vision,
But my eyes slice through with precision,
All the walls I've built to hide behind,

I know my own mind,
Too well to begin to pass judgement,

Maybe you have different eyes,
That look at me and see clear skies,
And spring and new beginnings,

Or perhaps in me you see,
The vastness of a salty sea,
Or the violence of a hurricane,
In its spinning,

Yet in me,
There may only be,
A sort of everyday plainness,
And nothing particularly exciting,

I could be wrong.

I can only write what my eyes see.