Caged by the thoughts of what could've,
should've,
would've
been.
Missed opportunities and unspoken words,
even though you scream like a seabird
through the silence that plagues your midnights
and the white noise that rings in your ears.
Even the liquor that prompts you to write.
with a chaotic mind and steady hand,
can't rectify all those years
where you could've, should've, would've
rattled the stars
and broken the bars
of your cage
constructed by the mind
of a tired hero
that amounts to nothing but zero
in the eyes of the people you love.
