White Curtains
A hidden figure in blue,
Corner of this room,
The wrath and mercy hover all over her gloom,
She wears it and cries near a window,
Tell a tale of our hurt crying widow.
White the curtains faintly translucent,
transparent the meadow,
Lift the blinds frail,
lighten the room and silk the glow illusive,
In graceful colors,
Hide the anger away.
Brush the strokes in yellow darken the blue,
In tables and turns,
The books within our view,
a door on the right,
Leave the widow astray,
Leave her crying in pain,
Tears the crying away.
In sobs of pain, one, two and more,
for the handsome memories,
All outside that door,
Keep the shivers and keep your stand,
And watch the widow’s face covered in her hand.
Silent…simmer ..
Silent…simmer…
A burst of tears, She cries:
Keep your loved ones near…
