They long for wide open spaces,
Endless skies that meet the earth,
But their feet feel rooted,
To a small, comfortable patch of birth.
The world outside beckons,
A tempting call they can't obey,
For every step beyond their comfort zone,
Feels like a daunting, fearful way.
Windows become their art studio,
Where they paint their view of life,
Framing a world observed from a distance,
Where fear keeps their heart in strife.
Crowds become a distant hum,
A sea they're too afraid to sail,
Each echo a reminder,
Of a freedom they cannot hail.
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The Language Of Pain
PoetryIn this powerful and deeply personal collection, the poet sheds light on the complexities of mental illness through poignant and evocative poetry. With unflinching honesty and vulnerability, they explore the darkest corners of the human experience...
