POEM
Here comes a window,
the useless window.
Stands against a concrete wall,
no place to even fit a ball.
The narrow alley hardly exists
but closing the window?
NO, there is something that resists.
It seems to be cold in warmth
It seems to be warm in cold storms.
It makes us stay
without a view...
But it could play
only with a few.
You guessed it right,
it is the calm breeze.
Escaping to fight,
making us freeze.
