Windows

I see you all,
As you hasten on by,
Not one of you stops,
Or ever really notices,
That I am here,
Still watching knowingly.

Last Saturday evening,
I noticed that you revelled,
And grew weary of the truth,
As you swaggered about,
Falling to rest noisily,
On my feet, alone.

And even in that,
Quiet, solemn hour,
You still failed to see,
But yourself and your woes.

Some days I reflect,
That, which you care,
Not to see at all.

A side of you,
That is covered in moss,
And debris of life,
As you look into my face.

Again you fail me,
Not really noticing,
My width, tranquility and openness.

You move on eventually,
To places far away,
And only return again,
When your belly aches,
For a fast food meal,
A banquet of take away.

I am created by you,
And given the front row,
To look upon all,
That you still become,
Even as night falls.

And as the sun rises,
It brightens my face,
Yet you rarely ever see,
The brilliance of me,
And all that I can,
Reflect upon you,
About you.




@ Caffe Nero's.