I look out and see other people's back windows,
and it is quite impossible for me to help but notice
the interest in my neighbors.
There are many children in these houses,
i don't know none of their names.
The helpless baby who roars all day
for he is shaken, spanked, by a angry nanny
who treats him like a rag doll.
I pity that little neighbor,
and believe he wont stand it long
for I see him double up his tiny hands,
and swing away at nothing,
I sometimes wonder if our neighbors,
ever have an interest in us or our shady side,
something we don't show to the world.
If they love, pity, or condemn us?
What words do they speak,
Do they forget who may be watching
from their back windows,with clearer eyes.
Could it be a Women with a pen in her hand
who continues to write what she see's from her,
"Back Window".
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