Frames and old stories

Frames on the wall as windows staring at a different time and story
Broken windows as frames to a world imprisoned in invisible cages 
I count the scratches on what remains of the plaster
Smooth and white it was, ancient strength turned now into broken shapes
And snippets of colours, now
Dumb monument under an infinite sky only lusting for the rain, 
To wash away so many memories, so many regrets
I can see them clearly now, and mention them one by one
The touch of the time, the story of someone, the lost of someone, the mystery in the picture, the voice of the wind, the noise of the city
the bites of the life, the borders not to pass, the joy of freedom, the unknown horizon, the way back home,
the tricks of the past, the troubles of the present
Categories in your mind for lining up the world
And give it a meaning it has not

The grass is growing green and luxuriant, and the day is still young and generous they say
but I'd better leave 'cause too many clouds seems to gather so fast at the horizon
And the storm could come soon to remember us that a roof, even a small one, is sometimes what we need the most.

Cover of the album "Led Zeppelin IV" used as background