his heart was a cage and himself a prisoner
surpressed himself; wasn't a fan of visitors
layered the bars with mighty titanium
ensured no entry points to and from his atrium
sang a lonely tune to keep him awake all night
from the world, he had fleed purely in fright
sat in the corner, twiddling his thumbs
refused to get up until he finally felt numb
he blamed himself for his own segregation
found fault in personality for his shaky relations
but blamed himself even more for plainly just falling
if to live free was his dream, then this was appaling
sad and hurt, he accepted the demons within
and for the safety of family, there was no giving in
maybe stuck in his world he may be eternally
but at least he couldn't harm anybody internally
it's hilarious though: how he made his own choice
hilarious indeed how the world hadn't rejoiced
isolation was just his own silly presumption
for who was he really to judge his "corruption"?
he was merely an emotional mess led astray
and announced without thinking how he caused a bad day
pondering hard and in tears, he never considered
while distanced away, all his loved ones grew withered.
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It (#Wattys2016)
Poetry| 1st Place for Summer Sun Awards (Beginner's Firsts) | | 2nd Place for the Pinpoint Awards | | Finalist for the 2016 Awards | It matters not what people think regarding things you believe strongly in. Perhaps, it may even help to even spread...
