My previous home prison >>>

My dullness when I look through the window on my yard.
I am ashamed of my work, even wooden work. Forced work. Ordered work. When I'm looking for another blind love at a petrol station. I'm looking - another good looking guy is pouring petrol into an empty tank.
I want to tap his bottom. I'm looking - a drunk postman is passing by and blindly sighing to a few women living nearby. A swarm of sparrows is polluting a doctor's car over there.
Wind is flowing through the window. I'm watching the world which is changing every morning as a drop of dew ...