Too good for the moment. Too blind to see.That everything happens for a reason, or so it would seem. Too late to let go. Not desperate enough to hold on. But the face presented. Reflects the black swan. Unaccustomed to the hiding. The memories flood in. And all emotions. Begin to cave in. The happiest of moments. Spent laughing and crying. Can’t measure up. To the lack of trying. The nostalgic old ways...of silently speaking my mind are left in the past...of which I have undermined. The importance of selfishness and being set in one’s ways. Only takes it so far. Or should I rephrase? That nothing or no one is just as they seem. And their value is not set. Until it’s too late to redeem