Self portrait in a window.

I look out my window into the cold darkness,

what I see is my light, the computer,

and a ghostly thin impression of me,

sitting typing furiously to keep up with

the words and ideas as they fly out of my imagination.

My glasses reflecting infinite images of

bold happiness tinged with worries;

as I move towards the present and the future,

worrying with a smile on my face,

about the cruelty in the world,

the hatreds and the greed,

the poisons and the bombs,

the obesity and the starving,

knowing though that good is happening

all around us, which we never get to hear about,

and there are heroes working tirelessly

towards a better world,

and there is love, but we hear only of the hate.

I look out of the window,

but only see my gaunt smiling face.



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