Rookie (18 September 1987 / Singapore)

Windows - Poem by Toby

The world through a window,
has spots, stains, and smudges,
is fuzzy without glasses.

Framed with metal rock hard,
is sometimes cold and sometimes hot.

A perfect window is as rare,
as a dancing grizzly bear.

The secret is, let me tell you please,
look closer and you may see
slitted eyes & pointed horns three.
Look out the window and that you may see,
It was a mirror, and wasn't that thee?

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Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, September 23, 2007

Poem Edited: Monday, April 11, 2011

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