The Face

The rain falls silently Against the blackness of the cottage window pane The raindrops swirl in the air, being lifted and pulled By the unknown forces of the breezy wind The face in the window spends its time looking in On other peoples lives Looking out into the rain The face in the window Is thought of as a haunting of someone’s past Never thought of as a guard And never thought of as rational Its snowy, white eyes Look into the personalities Of little girls playing with dolls In the 1980’s of The Cottage Of Men and Woman loving and hating In later times The face in the window Always wonders why they run away After spending only a night or a day In its precious little cottage In its strange little forest In its strange little world