Saturday, 7 January 2012

Broken Window

They say it's quiet. When you stay in your room.
When you lock the door, and sit by the window.
But the window is brown and dusty, and it only opens slightly ajar,
Revealing just a little of the garden below,
Where the flowers and the trees don't grow.
You can only see a faint outline of an old swing,
That you used to know as a child.
Did you look down and remember when,
Times weren't so dreadful?
Did silent tears fall from your cheeks,
As you remember the roses that used to sing,
And dance and laugh in the wind?
You draw the curtains,
The silence continues.
Yet dear friend, I know,
That inside you're screaming.
But there are petals you can't see,
Beautiful vibrant colours;
That fall to your feet.
Despite the darkness, there is never a time when you need to stay in that place forever.
Close the window, retrace your steps, and unlock the door.
There are always new gardens ready to bloom.

No comments:

Post a Comment