I sit upon my windowsill
The sun burning through the trees
It does not touch my milk white skin
I hide within the shadows.
I watch the children play
untouched by the evils to come,
the inevitable loss of their innocence,
how i envy the innocence they still possess.
For they still play their childish games
and have their childish fun
I sit like a bitter and envious snake
Watching from my dark and lonely windowsill
I pray they cling to their innocence
and fall not upon the same fate as I
to lose their innocence through force of another
and become bitter snakes upon their own windowsills
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