WHAT MY EYES SEE
My eyes see differently than once a child did see,
Reality of all that's around, a world of recognized
Sounds.
What my eyes see are not the coloring books and cartoons,
Not the exploring of our neighborhood and childish ways.
Not the magical world from a young boy's eyes lost
With time,
What my eyes see are a different kind of beauty and
Some insanity.
This world has changed along with the changes in me,
What my eyes see are so many things that I never dreamed.
Keith Garrett
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keithgarrettpoetry 
Interesting poem! and it made me thinking philosophically, are the eyes the same? are you the same person if you have changes physically and mentally? Is there a single identity of “self” as time flows unidirectional? Is there something that is unchanged (like a soull) that we are cognitively incapable of perceiving, because of our limited ability of perceiving only 3 complete and 1 partial dimension? Or it’s just some old morphed information that our brain carries/remembers that we call as “self” ? the question still stands “To be or not to be ?”
Thanks so much for your thoughts.