I sit here in my window
And I'm looking out
I look at them and wonder
If they scream and shout
I look at them, they look at me
And some will stare
Others look around upon the ground
And almost anywhere
Others look at me, as though they cannot see
That if they look they will be compromised
And somehow if I see them
They will be despised
What is it that we see in others eyes
That they can see inside our silent cries
Or is it something more that makes them stare
To see beyond that what I call my silent prayer
I sit inside my window looking out
My world controlled by self made doubt
Or is it the reflection of my very eyes
And in it of a soul that dies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Gentle, soulful music, Graham. I'd like it more, though, if the rhyme scheme was consistent - either ABAB or AABB all the way. Anyway, thanks for your comment on my poem. With warmth, Gina.