Caged

I feel like a caged bird with no songs to sing,

Accepting my enslavement, torturing myself with the reflection

Of my thinning wings.

Who am I to be free?

Who am I to be?

Clipped and stripped of who I am;

Because of the beauty I cannot recognize within,

No self motivation, and rarity of authentic emotion.

Who have I become?

What have I become?

Nothing more than an indigent girls soul,

Drifting in the tiring winds — I too am a burden for them.

Left to age in spaces I do not belong,

Forced into cages much too small.

A song comes from behind these treacherous walls of mine —

My mind, and all it has protected me from,

Will she set me free? Or suffocate what’s left of herself with perennial fears.

What do I know?

How do I grow?

When nothing can speak to me like my own misery,

Is there hope left for ones like me?

The songs I hold onto say there is, though it is so hard to see.

How do I see?

What will I see?