The girl in the window.

The girl in the window.

I looked up at the window. My disabled friend can't grab a clasp in her crooked hands. When she does they end up on the floor and makes me cry even more. As the sun goes down in her lonely land. I do understand. My hands are at her command. As she sits and looks out the window, a tear rolls down her cheek because she is a widow and has no place to sleep. He died for me today. I will die for him tomorrow and hold in my sorrows. If I could borrow one more tomorrow, I would be free of all my sorrows.
Dedicated to Diane.