Those words, paints, inks, smudges aren't meant to be hidden
They’re meant to be free
Just open your window, there’s so much you can be.
Open your window
so you can be the ears to every bird looking at the moon,
trying to remember the last time she smiled.
To every mother calling out her lost child,
Wishing that he’ll come home soon.
Open your window
so you can be the voice of the countless women
so buried in shock, they have nothing to say.
Who are violated by their society, family, husbands
Every
Single
Day.
Open your window
so you can be the eyes of the institution which refuses to see
the silent sufferings of its own people.
The government blind to
the swollen lips,
broken bones,
emaciated limbs
quietened moans-
Heart of stone.
Open your window
so you can be the nose that senses the stagnation
of the once freely flowing river of creativity,
Imagination.
Open your window
so you can be the hand
that draws a worthwhile tomorrow-
A beautiful land.
Crystal skies, instead of sand.
Now that you finally see the wings under your skin
Open your window,
for how else will the light come in?
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