My past is my cage
And some days it's tight,
Keeping my arms by my side
Squeezing the breath and my flesh
Like a mask for a face
That's not mine.
But other days I'm a bird
Let free to soar,
And see all the colours
And more.
My weight is my cage
Hanging heavy on my limbs
But I want to be rid now.
I look to the future
But I can't see today
How to get through.
So I must look to the bird
Unburdened and free
To see how the weight
Can be lost
By slipping my chains
Or struggling against the bars
For a while.
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2 comments:
Hauntingly beautiful, and I do believe you will fly free.
My empathetic support is here for you.
Thank you, see true interaction. A comment I make to you gets me thinking and little by little chips away, revealing a bit more, a little more of the real me, my authentic self xx
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