I often open the curtains to let the heat in
But there's no sunshine today
While sitting in a chair that's versed and infirm
Blistered brown
Bitter and dependable as the surrounding solid bricks.

Was it a daydream of fortune with laughter on my face
When a breeze, shimmed with animals within a contorted trees
In front of a typhoon of blue.

An open curtain can warm the room
As little ordinary shade of disturbance's approach
Providing unspeakable gloom
While I return to bed for an extra day.

I also can open the curtains to let people in
To forget the wasteland of silence
If even it's a peek and to avoid the reflection of my now grey imagination.

A vivid blub springs ordinary in the past
In the morning, even if there's no sunshine
There is a glint of a bright glow.