You are not my home,
Just a old broken window.
A Window for longing and light,
For Melancholy and comforting breeze.
My Window for waiting year on year,
And for memories of scandalous moonlight night.
They are for flowers and empty streets.
They are for vacant space for surviving emptiness.
Windows are for the world to peek in,
They are meant to be kept open wide.
My old broken window it’s time to shut,
You’re new house sings of a life of no return.
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