Looking Out The Window

looking out of the window poem
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Looking out the window
but my vision’s blurred.
Past’s, present’s, future’s,
a train is chugging fast
winding up in summer haze
followed by my eyes
followed by my thoughts…

Looking in the mirror
seeing things cannot be seen;
mist has covered all the green.
Taste nor sweet nor bitter.
Just unknown face,
eyes, confused, blinking.
Who’s that?

Going back to the window
a door to murky world
The train is gone…
Again… past’s, present’s, future’s
start rolling down the hills.
Who am I? What’s time?



photograph by Isai Ramos

The Writers Manifesto

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