the bottom half was quite foggy, nothing to be seen.
while the top half was "as clear as crystal", as they say.
although, there wasn't to exactly be seen.
the trees did indeed pass by with every foot.
the road did be ridden upon by this yellow contraption.
there were freeways to be explored and trees to be filled.
not a sight to be seen.
the gray matter below didn't help the tired feeling.
it wasn't as cheery as them in the back.
yet all they really saw wasn't much.
there were tunes in the ears, and forgotten notes in the mind, where everything was seen.
curse words and vuglar vocabulary, trying not to be sad at the loss of love.
no one to be seen.
it wasn't a sad night.
the orange doors not to be opened by the black gates closing.
bars holding in the noisey unsilent-silence.
they're still singing.
they thought they were all to be seen.
the memory of this night to forever be foggy.
Feb. 27, 2020