I have become obsessed
with windows.
They say that a person's
eyes are the window
to their soul,
and I believe it.
Windows,
they are honest
and it is clear when they are broken
or old with the kind of history
that those who left it behind
can tell.
I am only a bystander,
I am the person who walks by
staring out or
into each window.
Wondering and admiring
thinking out loud
every question I wish
I could ask.
They are not tainted
to show me
what I want to see.
good or bad
ugly or pretty
I will get a look
as to what is on
the other side.
YOU ARE READING
A Book of Words That Never Seem To Be Enough
PoetryA book filled with words that I thought made sense, but they never seem to be enough. *warning* emotional, messy, raw and full of sadness (sometimes a little happiness here and there) I hope you give my words a chance, maybe they'll be enough for yo...
