Sometimes I'm hopeful or I think I am, but the world slows down suddenly, I see something different. I can't explain what it is, something that's of love or something that's of the world in itself. I walked home unwillingly, and I couldn't help but write poems in my head of everything I saw. "Daydrops" is a special title, given by a friend. He gave "Daydrops" which he based on images that he got from the very first poem in this series. (Day, glass, and drops of rain) "Hoping Regrets" is also a special title given by my younger friends, which I unfortunately will not explain any longer.