Windows

Looking out my window and what do I see,
A mother and child walking hand in hand
down the street
Where is the father? Strong, bold yet sweet.

I look to the ground and there I see,
broken glass of a broken heart.
I see the cries of the poor, as well as
the poor in heart.
Yet through the faith of endurers, I hear
songs of praise and rejoice.

Tell me; Window of hope and knowledge,
when will things that exist that are bad
come to past.
And things that are good come forth
and last.

Window of fruits and dreams, when will
our world of destruction cease,
And "We" as one can live in peace!

by Joyce Ann Simms

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