Not by vines but words
That can't be cut down with just might
Pen, sharp as a sword
You cut through nothing
Like a butter knife
Stuck in place
Like dried concrete
Blocked by a door
Opening that door only leads
To another
And another
Until...
You run into a bright red
brick wall
All the while,
Trapped
And not being able to
Think outside this box
That holds you prisoner...
Like a mouse in a maze

♤E.M.Sterling♤