Chains imprison me, society’s status quo and expectations.
It is truly difficult to break them.
Nevertheless, they can be broken, and so I shake them.
They rattle on my brain, and become looser.
The more I fought to become free, the more my face became bluer.
I suppose I approached it with the wrong mental focus –
I died, and suffocated, so putting up a fight just wasn’t enough.
I had to yield and mold to the confinement, eventually, I would be able to become alive in my dying.
Why try to cage a bird, that is like trying to block light from a sun?
This poem is done.
I’m onto higher involvement in evolving…