Joyce Ann Simms
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Looking out my window and what do I see,
A mother and child walking hand in hand
down the street
Where is the father? Strong, bold yet sweet.
I look to the ground and there I see,
broken glass of a broken heart.
I see the cries of the poor, as well as
the poor in heart.
Yet through the faith of endurers, I hear
songs of praise and rejoice.
Tell me; Window of hope and knowledge,
when will things that exist that are bad
come to past.
And things that are good come forth
Window of fruits and dreams, when will