I am alone in the room,
watching the rain hit the window furiously,
resting by the lamp light
The house is cold,
the pitter patter of the rain
makes my head spin
Hours after hours,
from the moment the clouds came over the valley
and when the family left,
I knew the night would be harsh
and the dawn, long away

There is no love in this room,
Only hard floors and deep walls
This is no longer “home”
I wake wanting to leave
So I sleep
and when I do not sleep I watch the window
and the rain that falls against it

Sometimes I dare to see the truth that the window holds
on the other side of the glass
Just a peak,
from which the end may draw near
if I were to look too long

Outside is a swing set,
a blue and red painted piece
for the child that lives downstairs ,
with the rest of the family

And some days the daughter sits there and waits,
She waits for someone to take notice of her
and push her
higher
and higher
The dazzling delusion is almost inspiring
but i can not fall to its cheap tricks

Because I am alone
and will remain so
with my window and lamp light,
and I will be content
as long as I do not question
otherwise