Pain in Haze

A person in such way hides some pain in the haze. Smiles lost in mists of tragedies yet he lives dwelling on the slippery floor of his beliefs and self doubts. Lost in thoughts of 'what led my life here?' Hanging on a curtain of hope peeks out of the window where once he sat in a dreamy state, an angel he sees waving him a street away. Grabs a woven sweater his grandma gave, faces the cold traumatic storms. Shivering, trembling gets out of this terrible maze. Realizes he stepped on a golden pathway and the happiness that knocked the neighborhood doors is now on his face. And the person lives another day.