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Poetry

Bedroom Window View

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To see the sky from below after seeing it from my room is most unexpected,
The smudges of oranges and pinks from the sunset painting get swallowed by trees and buildings,
Streaks of clouds drift onwards in more of an escape and the sunlight wanders away from my gaze,
Yet the sky is still beautiful, opened up with darkening blues and the expectation of the moon popping out to pay its nightly dues,
So I sit here and wonder what I could do, to get back to that bedroom window view of you