By Mann Sharma
Peak out the window and breathe a while
The leaves that lost are in the dust
Fresh buds blossom anew
The flesh wound on the trunk disappeared
With time the fresh air will too
I've sat here night and day and been fascinated
Dreamt of how it may look the next day Foreseen all the shades of life it may show Years from now at a point where I wouldn't
even want to move
It kills in the autumn and pushes life on April rolls around every year and pulls right back
Fought to resist every summer and beg for it to return every august
There's a knock on the door
They say it's time to step out
There's a whole entire world filled with the same essence waiting to be found Absorbed in the depths of thier dreams
In the same shoes as them and with thier sets of eyes
I bore witness to the world they spoke of And all they accomplished was to remind The sweetness of the air I breathe every morning
The despair I feel when it's out of reach every night
Accustomed to the city that they've built here
Yet another window is all I look for
In a room again and remembering again I'll bleed and die,suffocate and choke on my ideas
But there was no place I'd see that be the truth of my moment
But by the same window
In the same room
This time there's two flesh wounds you
can observe
One will cause a new genesis
The other can only hope to have a knock on the door
It can only hope it's unlocked
Only hope someone capable steps inside
By Mann Sharma
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