Room with a View

White-washed walls
In a small box room
And bars on a window frame
As the light breaks
Shadows do crawl
She is trapped in a room with a view
The mirror is cracked
In a small box room
And the lights begin to fade away
White-washed eyes
Are wet with the smell
Of being trapped in a room with a view
A picture in a frame
That does not move
The clock hands don’t go round
A wall, a book rest
And a mind suppressed
Her window is fixed with a view