Bars all around,
She is the one that got herself into this rut.
Doors always shut.
Her anger and anxiety she can hardly bare.
The wings she thought she had, now have a tare.
A place of freedom, of great space and joy,
Feels like a trap now filled with a void.
She once was always running,
from what I don’t know.
Maybe herself or maybe her sorrow.
She strives to be still,
and at peace with what is,
to except what is happening and to let in what still is.
The lesson she is learning about being alone,
she will look back and be thankful and atone.
She perceives her desires, her dreams and aspirations,
though they will not be met with others in the equation.
They do not see her for her true state,
only a child, though they were brought together by fate.
They love and adore her for what shes not shore,
maybe they know, that one day,
with her torn wings she will sore.