I stare at the white walls, knowing they will not change

I keep asking myself, why won’t you change?

But will anything ever change?

Will this street change and lead to another outlet?

Will this blade of grass blossom into a flower?

Will anything ever change?

I look out over the horizon and I see the storm

The storm that always comes at this time of night

The one that will always keep coming

Will that ever change?

Will the rain that follows change into snow?

If I stare at it long enough will it change?

If I look at anything long enough will it change?

If I stare out into this storm long enough can I make a difference?