Home feels like a cage
Bound by these golden bars.
Please, set me free; let me see
the world.
My soul is growing weary,
Its light is clouding over.
Ignite my passion
Show me the way.
My wings are withering,
down my narrow cage.
Scarcely seeing through
these enraged golden bars.
What is the self amid this blaze?
What am I now, that I was then?
Shall I perpetually suffer and act again?
Or maybe will the morning tide untether me?
On the back of the wind,
floating downstream among the clouds,
stroking the dazzling orange sun rays,
A free bird vault over the city.
From a distant hill,
Striking up songs of joy,
Thinking of another breeze,
I slowly whisper: I am free.
__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚❀ ⋆｡˚❃
┊ ┊ ┊ ✿
┊ ┊ ❁⋆
┊ ๑ ┊
✾ ⋆ ┊. ˚.
˚✽ add this book to your library if you enjoyed this poem ;)
YOU ARE READING
Raindrops of Reality - [poetry]
PoetryI'm fine. But what does it mean? A phrase said for years but usually meaning a lie. A settlement for how something could be? Or a false testimony for the way that I'm feeling? Raindrops of Reality is a personal collection of poems, with the will to...
![Raindrops of Reality - [poetry]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/264144300-64-k652954.jpg)