Cataracts

Cataracts

It starts like fog on a rainy day,

A blur that won’t quite clear away.

The world once sharp, now soft and gray,

As colors fade and edges fray.

Faces blur, and words seem dim,

The light grows dull, the room goes grim.

A quiet thief, slow but near,

Stealing sights I once held dear.

Glasses checked, appointment made,

To lift the haze, the fog will fade.

They’ll remove these clouds from sight,

And I’ll see life, clear and bright.

I’ll cherish each moment, each face, each hue,

The laughter of loved ones, the sky's vibrant blue.

For in the light, I'll find my way,

Reclaiming the joy of each passing day.