Trapped

I stare at the cage that entraps me,

knowing that I will never be free.

The walls were built with my own hands,

and the cuffs I wear I locked those bands.

This prison was meant to keep me from harm,

but now I’m trapped and can not disarm.

The bars were meant to keep danger out,

as I sit all alone my thoughts fill with doubt.

My prison of protection has become a jail,

but on to new places I’m afraid to sail.

The irony here is that I hold the key,

but I’m not quite ready to set myself free. image.jpeg

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