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.