We live at the back

When the sky is turning gray

Hill hosts a shelter

All creatures lining under the tall grass

Tall, like skyscrapers are to human eye

Pouty thus the lips of the little girl

She too wants to bask under the sunlight

Window under the roof,

Water pumping on the road,

Dreamers are home knitting their idealistic view

The smaller it is, the higher chances of it being achieved

Wind blows, trapping life inside

Paralyzed, way to go numb

No Mary to storm, no door to break

Life has become elusive,

Hasn’t it?

P.s: this poem is a riddle, solve it! Here’s a clue, the answer to the first line is the first letter. The answer to the last line is the character that ends it. Good luck, Finn Zieglerstein.

P.s.s: if you have found what the riddle is, do not answer just yet. Go to this page first, then you may answer.