My Window

You look out my window and smile. Not at anyone in particular, you just smile. Through my window you see life in another way. An optimistic way, a happy way. You continue to look out my window and you start to cry. You pity me. My life is hard to live and strict parents are a big part of it. You rub your eyes and stop crying. You look through my window but past all the sadness and misery and look at the bright side. The side with the sun shining and the birds whistling and the flowers blooming. This is the first thing you see. Some people wish this is the only the only thing they can see but it can't be that way. It's not allowed to be this way. Everyone cries and everyone dies but we all have at least one happy thing happen in our lives. In my window, my life, it is friends. Friends that care or at least pretend to. Friends that like me for who I am because it's hard to like someone for their clothes if they wear Oshkosh. Friends. Just friends. You look through my window and see friends. You smile. Not at anyone in particular but you just smile. My window, my life, is decent and you smile. Every time.