Tell me, why do you put chains on my feet?
Is it because you find my freedom intimidating?
Or do you secretly long to be like me,
Afraid to be left alone here,
Wallowing in misery,
Living your insipid life,
In fiery denial and stubbornness
Does it irk you, my desire to fly?
Do you ever gaze at the sky
And want the same things I do?
What about love?
Do you think it’s a flight of fancy,
A story fed to us from childhood
Just so we can justify lust?
You’re silent I see, but you’re shaking in anger
Or perhaps it’s the cold wind of realisation
That has arrived too late


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