I looked into my window from outside
The books were piled on shelves in random ways
I thought I’d see him there though he has died
In the past I lost another , life denied
I had to carry on, to grief was prey
I looked into my window from outside
My pain was such, I felt that I might die
The shrapnel in the heart, the guilt unpaid
I dreamed I’d see him there though he has died
The fiery bush ,its flames have caught my eye
It burns forever showing us the way
I looked into a window from outside
I used to live behind a glass, no bride.
Yet the vital work was learned in play
I wished to see him there though he has died
Now three are gone am I supposed to pray?
The jackets tweed, the smell of smoke and clay
I looked into my window from outside
I thought I’d find someone with the right eyes.
