The Window

How was I supposed to know, That that window would be gone? The day that I looked out last time Blows in the wind like a song. The things I would see outside, Now can no longer be seen. Now it's a happy memory, Existing inside of me. Now there is just a white wall, Covering that empty space. And when I go to look out of it, The plaster touches my face. The green grass and rolling hills, The flowers that brightly glow, All the happy little critters, I'm sure they're still there, I know. Even though I can't see them, Unless I go out the door. But it will never be the same to me, 'Till I look through the window once more.