Windows do not open doors to beauty.
They are invisible walls
Which are just as unmoving as
Opaque brick.
One in a glass room
In the middle of a forest
Cannot say they are close to nature,
Nor can they claim
To be in the forest.
They are as cut off as one
Who is in a concrete house
In the same setting.
Only in the glass room,
One can see the outside.
But is it really any better
To have this glimpse of the outside
Than it is to be completely in the dark?
When in the dark,
One knows not what they are missing.
But when one is in a glass room,
Insanity is all that waits,
For they are forever just an inch from outside.
Blocked off,
But forced to see forever
What is their impossible goal.
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