2023-01-03 Genre: Poems

Peeking Through My Window


A room, a pen and a keyboard.
Poems, they're just assumptions.
Today, I'm out from my comfort.
And I observed my surrounds.....

I saw a woman, talking with her dog.
It too jumped, and went for a hug.
Saw a man, a very huge load.
Dust, rough clothes, in a graveled road.
A girl riding her scooter, gliding through air.
Didn't have a helmet, wind flowing her hair.
In many people, common was a single thing.
Smiling they were, happy they seemed.
My assumptions were wrong, I was blind.
Happiness was, just, a state of mind.
Though It may, It's transferred from things.
Dog to the woman, way to the man.
And the scooter, that was her charm.
Something seemed off, a false positive.
My data gave results, somewhat relative.
It's what I saw, I here am the proof.
I saw a grandma, praying on her roof.
Seeing her face, there was a smile.
Why was she happy? I thought for a while.
My data has shown, and it's not wrong.
Hope was the key, the proof was strong.
It comes to me, times I used to hope.
Happy I was, no reason to sob.
Me, my questions, all starting from "how?".
The realizations, they are, all I have now.