Behind the Blinds
I stood looking out the window,
searching for a vision of you,
but the blinds stood between us,
hiding what my heart once knew.
If I pulled the strings and let in the light,
would I see your face again?
Or would your memory slowly disappear,
like shadows fading at the day's end?
The honest answer is—I don't know.
So I let the darkness take control,
while two strings move gently up and down,
like tired eyes protecting the soul.
Opening and closing,
revealing what I’m afraid to find,
because sometimes what blocks our vision
isn't the window—it's the mind.
If only you could see the secrets
hidden quietly behind these blinds,
memories my heart keeps sheltered
from the searching eyes of light.
So I remain inside this silent room,
where yesterday still survives,
adjusting my eyes to the darkness
while your memory waits behind the blinds.
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