Windowpane
Blank face in the windowpaneMade clear in seconds of lightDisappears and returns againCounting hours, searching the night
Might be waiting for someoneMight be there for us to seeMight be in need of talkingMight be staring directly at meInside plays a lullabySlurred voice over children criesOn the inside
Haunting loneliness in the eyeSkin covering a secret scarHis hand is waving a goodbyeThere's no response or action returned
There is deep prejudice in meOutshines all reason insideGiven dreams all ridden with painAnd projected unto the last