Glaring through the window,
Focusing on circling flies,
While having laid an impression with this body,
Have my hours promised this past,
and all before,
Blocking these eyes from thinking at all.
These closets with stacked belongings kept for certain,
The lights remain on even throughout the night,
they flicker at times !
these blinds almost shield this daylight,
allowing reflections to emit,
do my words have substance ?
does my soul care to admit