The window is dirty,
The stains of many hands,
The dirt of the years,
The memories of all those who have looked out,
Trying,
Just like I do now,
To see their future,
To find a clue to where they will be in the future years,
They sat here and gazed away off into the distance,
So many of us have,
Some still do,
I do now,
Those who came before inspiring me,
And as I look out of this dirty window,
I take a cloth and clean it,
So that others may get a better view,
As I,
And the others,
Go outside this window,
Into the world,
And live,
When before,
So few could see because of the dirt.