Petals of Memory

I apologize.I seem senseless sometimes,
looking at the world through lenses
that only I can see.
These are not the lenses others view the world through:
they are heroic and romantic,
redolent with tales of bravery and laden with emotion.

I forget, sometimes,
that everyone else has a life as well:
plans to be made, plans to be executed,
lives to be lived.
I become so engrossed in my own lenses
that I fail to account
for the lenses of everyone else.

The result?
I constantly walk in a garden filled too often
with dreams and memories,
where the memories whirl like petals
blowing in the wind,
never remembering my petal snowstorm
is not the extent of the world.

And so, forgive me:
Sometimes petals of blowing memories
obscure the bright sun,
leaving me to look through lenses
that have become so clouded
they do not reveal things
as they really are.