Flowering fields in the rain.

Dear window in the room I sit down in,

If I stare at you long enough, will you ask me why? Will you reply with a sound so sweet so true, or will you punch me in the eye for staring too long? I see right through, like a soul with no depth, but I look at you with passion, you let me see my breath.

Dear walls that surround me, every second of the day,

When I leave the room, do you tell my secrets? Do you laugh and joke over afternoon tea? Do you shed paint, when I shed a tear?

Dear soul I just walked with,

Did you share my thought upon the stone courts? or did you drift right off in to your wandering mind? either way I was lost, my mind twinkled with questions and stories, I spoke but none of what I wanted came to sound in the far and distant land.

Here I am now. No soul to walk with, just my window and walls, and silence be silent, and move to movement but it was all a song I shall not sing.

Late.