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THE WINDOW
Looking out the window,
The world is passing by,
If I could write a story,
Then I’m sure I’ve got the time.
Things seem really funny,
When you’re staring into bliss,
And every body passes,
There’s no one ever missed.
They call me nosy parker,
But I don’t really care,
Cause I’m not going nowhere,
For I’m stuck here in this chair.
One day my legs might let me,
Walk a pace or two,
Then I could stand there staring,
through the window back at you.
By B Kingsford Copy Write 2,002
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THE WINDOW
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