Windowpains

The curtains nebulous in her hand as she grips nothing

She stares unseeing through grimy windowpanes

Stares at nothing

She notices not the possibilities

Nor the changes

She does not feel the movement of her age

She is locked up

Locked behind bars of her own making

When she built this house of pain

The open front door with welcoming mat

Was forgotten

She built instead a cell

With grimy windowpanes

To not gaze through

Unseeing

 

Copyright March 2013

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