Do you know the feeling of looking into a window
And seeing something warm and happy
While you stand in the cold and dreary rain?
Wishing and wanting to be able to
Cut, copy or photo shop
Yourself into the scene?
But you can’t because
You don’t belong there
You’d just look unnatural in the picture
Your face would look ugly among all those
Pretty faces and happy souls
So completely unlike your own
Perhaps if you’re struck by a moment of luck
Someone on the other side will come to the window
And curiously touch their fingers to the glass
They’ll just be wondering if you’re worth it
Seeking out to find your hand’s heat
To see if you might be able to fit in the picture
But you’ll just scare them away in the process
The cold storm you’re followed by
Is far too fearsome for someone so soft
They’ll just leave you again you know
For their own warm memories
To forget you in the dreary storm you’re followed by
The longer you linger by the window of someone else’s memories
The less likely it is that you’ll find a pane or two your own happiness
And the more surprising it’d be that you ever escape your own storm
Written in a substantially different tone and view than my usual poems. I was worried it sounded unprofessional, but what do you think?