The Window

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My hand's against the window
My nose pressed to the glass
My back is to receding wall
The rain is yet to pass
Just one more rat trapped in the race
One more fish that's yet to fry
Why can't I lift my feet off-ground
While my heart, it yearns to fly.
Here trapped inside my own dark room
The light is fading fast
Can I escape while I have time
Am I not made to last?





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