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Perspective

He looks out of the window
To see the outside world
A gentle breeze, the swaying leaves
A chirping bird, the shining sun

Why can only he see all this?
The rest cannot sit
They wait for him to tell his tale
He describes the beauty through pain

They see the world with closed eyes
He fires their rested mind
Life comes shining in the morbid room
Till one day when silence takes over

One of them tries to carry the torch
He then peeps through the window
Only to find a blank brick wall
Why could only “he” see all that?

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