Each window tells a story
Although it is dampened by the whispers of strangers,
Noises of everyday red head buses
And gets mixed with the rain dripping on umbrellas held by broken arms, 
They still have a story to tell.

The inmates are quiet from yesterday's tantrum
The window is open,
The curtain flows out and dries the rain
The curtain is white
And looking uo one might feel,
A cloud has taken refuge in that window.

Windows are mysterious
Some are torn,
Some broken,
Some coloured,
Some silent.

Every window opens out to the world
And closes in on us,
We are a window too.