Window Cleaner, poem (330/365)

1

He imagined
The lives of the people
Of the floors
Who’s windows he cleaned
He dubbed over their lips
with own thoughts and ideas
Suggesting more fun inside
He often put his hand
To touch
But all he ever touched
Was glass
If he wanted to be
Inside the first
Thing he would have to do
Was to stop
Looking from the outside

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One comment on “Window Cleaner, poem (330/365)

  1. Elan Mudrow says:

    Nice writing. I liked it a lot!
    Check out:
    passiontorn.wordpress.com

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