Windows are open, they're spacious, They keep thoughts to themselves, You can see the world through a window, But never know what it's thinking . . . . . . never seeing what's inside it! Bending things, changing things . . . . . .but never quite existing A mysterious kind of mixture . . . . . .powerful and privileged Yet so powerful . . . That a pebble might destroy its gift, Emotions - a pane in the window of life, I give to you: my window

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