Standing in front of your window
gazing at the image of who you used to be
is there still a part not drenched in sorrow?
only a reflection I can see
I do not want to stare
impossible to turn and walk away
I can hardly bare
to see you fall, stumble, stray
Trying to move closer, to get perspective
trying to knock, make you see
painting a mental image too reflective
there is still beauty within you have to set free
Outside summer, inside only snow
I can see how you break to pieces
taking the hammering blow, by blow
circumstances leaving everlasting creases
STOP! Enough is enough
rise from the floor
it is time to polish to rebuff
come outside again, just go through the door
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