Poetry of varying subjects and construction, the second of three. Written while sitting anywhere, lost in thought about everything and anything. Accolades: #1 Thought Provoking 2/26/2020 #1 Self-Reflection 3/22/2020 #1 Creative Writing 7/24/2020 #3 Freeverse 3/11/2020 #5 Sorrow 3/11/2020 #7 Poet 3/11/2020 #9 Poembook 3/11/2020 #8 Poetry Collection 3/14/2020

These walls seem so familiar, but why? Much I have seen before, but it's clouded by different textures, colors, and sights than I remember. They change, shift, morph into combinations I'm uncomfortable with at times. In the end I can only wonder: why is this happening? -- Note: This story isn't actually complete. It's currently under heavy editing.