The Woman in the Window

The woman in the window
Sits by the glass panes.
From when the sol arises o’er the east
And sinks down into the western shore
She sits, waiting
Watching and praying
A wretch to all who know her.
The innocence of youth flies by her
Oblivious to time.
She covers her tears with a mask
Suppressing her poignant moans.
Crying for her youth to return
She spends her time looking backward
To the years far past
To the days of folly mingling in her midst
Just out of her fingers’ grasp.
Her hollow, lusterless eyes bear no lurid color.
The once amenable, congenial child
Now a bitter hag.
Iniquity brought her forth to her only pedestal
Her rocking chair
Always rocking by the same old window.
The sagacity of elders cannot mend her marred paths.
Only destruction can she reap from the seed she has sown.
Now she lies in ignominy
Insubordinate to benefactors.
Locked inside the cruel prison of her mental state
Forever a prisoner
To none but herself





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