The sun is shining,
Flowers are blooming,
Birds are chirping,
And a gentle breeze blows. .
It is warm, inviting and peaceful.
All is right with the world . . . on the outside of the window.
On the inside. . .
The sun never shines,
The flowers won’t grow – all wither and die,
The birds don’t venture here,
And the wind that blows here is hard and cold,
And it never stops beating you back,
It is dark, vacant and anything but peaceful.
All is not right, here - - All is wrong here . . . on the inside of the window.
Being on the inside looking out, well that is another story for another day.
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