By Michaela Paula Lopez
I can see your troubled eyes and your wounded soul, but we are separated by this glass window.
You put your hands on the glass, and I put mine too, and we feel the warmth of each other despite the barrier between us.
I was about to get a pen and a paper when you wave your hand telling me not to.
It is because you think words aren’t necessary o express how you feel.
I strongly agree, but there’s something I want more.
I wanted to break this glass window.
We’ll do it together.
Right?
Written April 11, 2011 1:55am
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