I sit alone on the windowsill,

I sit alone and laugh.

I watch children playing,

Their happiness is a sharp knife to me.

They do not see me; they do not hear me.

I sit alone,

One jealous snake on a windowsill.

I know they will not know who I am,

Or what has become of me,

When I am but a memory.

But even when I am a whisper of wind,

Running through the trees of time,

I still will be alone.

They will remain long after I am gone,

For they are hard as stone.

Insects will feed and humans will grow,

Death will remain,

And life will be the same.

When all that awaits for me is death.

The dark waters spread,

Opening for me to come in.

But what is my crime,

Is death just another sin?

Their lives are just to free,

Uncaring and unbarring.

They have made me into the snake I’ve become,

They made me sit alone.

They made me just another jealous snake,

Laughing, hating,

Dying.

Please review,

LL