I’ve looked up at windows
and I’ve looked out of windows
my whole life.
And the world is colored by light.
the day dawns and the night speaks
while I lay in bed
listening…
I want to stop the seasons
prevent the world from turning
but reality won’t let me
and the loneliness of the years
moves forward
like aging laughter
dying slowly
I look through different windows now
and I don’t hear people
in the same way
horns honk
conversations are competitive
and not much is known
even if, a lot is said
the light is not bright
anymore
and I find ways of dealing
looking through different windows
at a world turning
no matter what I do
and even though history
has never changed it
I’m looking through windows still
hoping to find a way out
and when I do
I’ll climb on through
and I’ll stand there
still
where time stands still
and in the stillness
I’ll look through different windows
at a turning world
where I don’t turn.
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