Through The Window

Through a window I appear to gaze
Thinking of a life before
As if through a rose tinted haze
Time has passed, was it better before
In those almost forgotten days.

Out of the Window I look
It seems so ideal
Like out of a picture book
No marks upon it
Until I stamp with my foot.

I peer through a Window.
The sun shines bright
Over meadow after meadow.
Then it hits my old friend
The weeping willow.