Four walls and a picture
Are all that I see.
A window with sunlight
Never shining on me. 

These twists and turns
Have caged me tight.
Curtains of stone
Made of a dead, placid white. 

I can still see the toy-sized people,
Though they’re blind to my dark window panes.
I can watch them go about their happy, little lives,
While they can’t see me from inside this cage. 

Noiseless, boisterous, sad, sad walls
Always echoing silence.
Sometimes I’m scared to hear my own voice
Call out to me from the white abyss. 

That picture has two eyes
That grow paler everyday.
It watches me with a painted smile
As I map out my escape. 

Four walls and a picture
Are all that I see,
And I wonder if that trapped person in the picture
Is actually a reflection of me. 

Writer. College student. Focused. Blessed. Adventurer. Musician. Professional over thinker. I'm pretty busy with college, but sometimes I write. It clears my head and reminds me of the impact I want to have on the world, which is why I'll never stop.

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