Outside The Window

Pretty things live outside the window
They really are perfect.

Bright and shiny flowers,
With their soft and smooth petals, and candy like colors
Blooming, glowing and flaunting their glee.
Can aesthetic mean anything else
Other than those flowers outside the window?

Terrific things transpire outside the window
Worthy of the talk of the town

A pair of love birds
They only chirp happy songs
The perfect mates who know things the others dont
Could life’s meaning be understood in anything else
Other than the chatters of the love birds outside the window?

Lovely creation comes alive outside the window
The kind that that evokes a sigh

The sun, the stars, the moon, the skies
they are the creations
Of flawless beauty, the strokes of a genius
Could an artist ever create a piece more alluring
Other than the creativity that lives outside the window?

A little girl from the inside, looks outside the window
She is a thing of melancholy, of an unending unhappiness

Nothing she does, or feels
Can look the way it does outside the window
She can only envy it, and only keep dying of the wistful longing she bears in her heart
For, could there be a more futile unfulfilling chase
Other than the profound illusion that really is outside the window?