Window

If you got hold of the key,

That opens the lock,

You could peek outside

And see some sky

Sometimes Blue or Grey

And follow thoughts

That live inside silences.

You would hear ghosts laughing

At love conquered

And memories lost

And shrug at tears.

The simple, kind ones,

The ones that flow freely,

And the cruel ones,

That stay inside

And turn to ice.

But you could also peek inside

And see dreams and hopes

Suspended in time,

Like a child in the womb

Searching for light,

Waiting  for you.