I am a cage.
Stagnant and unmoving,
I am stuck in purgatory.
Even so, within, I contain nothing.
With my bars locked tight with remorse and doubt.
I let the opportunities breeze right through me.
I am not happy with what I am.
I wish I could hold an object,
A thought or idea.
Then I could represent something more than myself.
I would serve a purpose.
I could relieve myself of the bonds that stay shut
And let the animals breathe inside.
No longer would I sit by as visitors pass.
They would stop and appreciate what I offer.
I would share it with them.
Awed not by what they see,
But what they feel.
Something that would keep them coming back.
To connect with others and achieve a goal.
We could make it ours,
Not just mine.
This is when I would be a cage no longer.
I would be satisfied and happy.
I would be a release.
Let everything flow to and not breeze by.
But as a cage,
I cannot find what I am looking for.
How can I move with no legs
Or see with no eyes
Or speak with no mouth?
These are the obstacles I face daily.
I will overcome them.
I may be a cage.
But I can be so much more.