The Window Painting.

A blue sky disguises the cold, sharpened air
Whipping invisibly – inside eyes unaware
Gazing out from their windows at life as a painting
Though not feeling its touch, just sitting and waiting
Observing and judging the subjects of the piece
Living vicariously through them as a way of release
Fabricating a reality to distract the mind
From it’s inner workings that refuse to decline
Being lost and consumed by unchangeable actions
Coasting a stream of easy reactions
Just sitting and watching, imagining
What they would do if they were actually living