Sitting on the window sill,

The boy looks on into the deep abyss

Of darkness

With nothing to see,

All the boy has left is to think.

 

The boy is thinking of the many things he 

Could and could not do in that moment,

The ever extending list

Of cannot was ever expanding

Compared to the cans

Depressing him and so he looks

Onwards

 

 

 

The boy then begins to ponder

He ponders of the life in the angry sea

The ship so elegantly dances upon

As the boy sits in the window sill.

 

 

 

 

Sitting on the window sill,

The boy is sad

And longs for the affection of another

For he looks upon the darkness

And sees a gateway into himself

 

The boy sees what looks to be nothing,

Filled by the black of the night.

 

But if you look

 

And you squint

 

And you try

 

You can see the depth of what 

Had been there all along.

 

 

 

Sitting on the window sill, 

The boy, in his ignorance

Doesn’t realize or comprehend this fact

The boy is a boy,

And frustrated in his shortcomings.

 

The boy is tired...

 

Hungry...

 

Sad....

 

Yet, Sitting in the window sill,

The boy, ever still

and unmoving,

Looks on into the deep abyss

Of darkness

And lets his mind flow