How different the blue sky looks,
Through a glass window,
It seems brighter,
More inviting,
Almost tempting.
It makes you desire to go outside;
Through a glass window,
It seems brighter,
More inviting,
Almost tempting.
It makes you desire to go outside;
It is more appealing through a window.
Those poor souls.
The ones who are bound to their bed,
Who cannot move,
Only lust for untainted sunlight.
Never acquire their one craving,
Only gaze out the window with a longing sort of intentness,
Wishing,
Never triumphant.
The ones who are bound to their bed,
Who cannot move,
Only lust for untainted sunlight.
Never acquire their one craving,
Only gaze out the window with a longing sort of intentness,
Wishing,
Never triumphant.
| 
Email this Poetry
| 
Add to reading list
