Windows

Looking into the house, its windows shielding the outside.
Curtains pulled across them, sealing its reality.
Darkness invades the house, as no light shines through.
A certain mysterious aura lingers in the night's air.

Through the bedroom window, a scene is shown.
A young boy playing with a little girl, affectionate.
Not knowing what's going on, she plays along, innocent.
Caressing her, he touches her in forbidden places.

Through another window, another girl is shown.
Sitting on her bed, she cries into the night.
Screaming into her pillow, muffling the sound.
Unheard, her silent cries echo in her room.

Through yet another window, some girl's silhouette shows.
Looking on the outside, silent tears running down her face.
Crying at the loses she's suffered, crying her pain.
Sinking deeper into her sorrow, she believes she's alone.

Another window shows a young teenager's tourment.
Bent over a book, she pours her feelings out.
Bleeding her words unsaid, prisoner of her past.
Anger towards her past, sadness towards her reality.

Another window shows a girl's anger towards the truth.
Running until her legs burn, escaping reality.
Incapable of facing her past, she runs from what is real.
Running from her past, pouring her anger on the cement.

Another window shows a young teenager's evolution.
No longer crying, her smiles no longer fake.
Opening her heart to those who surround her.
Genuinely happy, no longer feeling alone.

Another window shows the teenager still writing her past away.
Writing about the sadness, hoping to give hope to others.
Still running, yet this time, not from her past.
She runs towards the future, capable of facing the truth.

Looking at the house, the curtains conceal the truth.
Hidden from everyone, forced to live in silence.
My story lies behind the curtains, sealed.
Some windows are just never meant to be opened...