Outside my window there’s a world

that sits back while we uncurl

its secrets

what it’s keeping.

To be honest it’s me it’s keeping

captivated, motivated,

my head up and I keep on leaping,

to keep the beat to beat the heat,

simplistically, physically.

I’m tired of all these falsities

and these groupings of people we call cities.

Perhaps we just move too fast

and can’t fasten what happened in the past

but it’s easy to think they’re cast away,

yet somehow they seem to stay.

But outside my window is a world

that sits back while we uncurl

its secrets,

what it’s keeping,

it takes my heart for safekeeping,

as my mind continues weeping

constantly, obnoxiously,

it’s my soul this world is reaping.

How does anyone

when in this life no one’s ever done

get the things they want

except at the threat of a gun.

and is that truly a win?

With a heart so cold

and a mind so bold,

can you let anyone in?

That’s what I need to know

because outside my window is a world

that sits back while we uncurl

its secrets

what it’s been keeping.

We watch as the stairs keep on steeping,

but we stay quiet as they keep sleeping,

and as say nothing as their demons keep creeping.

But we know

there’s air out there

that blows in their hair

that wins with that hare

with a single stare that keeps the game fare.

Out mountains keep us contained

or might just bring us to fame.

Stay acclimated, animated,

never let the shade make you fade,

stay on your toes, keep them jaded,

and maybe one day you might just make it.

Because outside my window is a world

that sways in time as we uncurl

its song

its rhyme

its secrets

what it’s been keeping

but truthfully,

secretly,

it’s been me it’s keeping.