Windows you glare at me from the soft might of your home
Windows you stare like you’ve never seen such gloom
Where you’ve seen the delicious pots of tenderness
And the soft searching eyes of children

Footsteps reach you to pull out their curiosity
And the burning whims all fly and flee
To the one true Seeing Eye hole
And then when you finally can breathe—It’s all over

The picking snap of scabs
That’s what comes next from such sights
And now there is just blood
And a scar full of sorrows and why nots

Peachy just peachy it is to think you know best
And then know for sure that you’re not like the rest
But kept from is what is sure bliss
Though no one knew how and now it’s just this

The sporadic views coming from no place
And that’s destiny I tell you
Comes from needing no nerds
Then being thrown into everything once hated

It is the windows I tell you
The ones who make such visions possible
And let me make it clear
That no one can make it without fear

White washed windows
Pulling on those strings
From child to the next
Never should they sing