Sitting out, taking in the everyday surroundings, the leafs blowing to the rhythm of the wind. The clouds circling in a way that is almost comforting. The familiar words filling the emptiness with a chorus that understands the pain.  And underneath things unwind. Emotions so deep and secret that only the fresh air and deep breaths would whisper them out. The airplanes shooting across the sky leaving there white smoke, is the dream, your wish, imagining your some where else, some where far away. The book laying next to you, the corner of the page slightly folded over, marking your place, a place where you were living some one else life, experiencing there emotions, and yet with all this you turn around and there’s the front door, the door to all of your emotions, holding the love you have, the love that doesn’t have a specific definition because its different for each person. The hate and misfortune you’re holding and waiting to set free. The door that holds your past present and future. Taking one more glance around, watching the plane fly away with out you, and the little kids next door  still yelling  in there happiness, you have to get up and  go thought  that door one more  time  and  hope for the best.