The glass keeps the freedom from my fears,
as barred I am to liberate my tears.
all locked up and guarded and hushed away,
no emotion will escape the cage of sadness today.
the cage is secured with a lock of unsure,
and is locked with the knowledge that I am impure.
through all of the strife I find self repent,
if only I knew what all of it meant.
to be trapped and enclosed and relinquished in hate,
is what I’ve come to accept is my one and only fate.
the color of despair is crimson and dark,
and on my soul these colors make their mark.

Would you consider a dance the highest romance,
or a petty offering of ballroom souvenir?
Will you see a kiss as a fine state of bliss,
or the longest yard of a childhood past?
Could you give up patronage for the sake of a marriage,
and give up your life like you always had dreamed?
Will you take to an unengaged life of dull,
and never take your heart to that grassy null
Where your conscience is resting and your soul is aflutter,
and under your breath you dispiritedly mutter,
How you really should have done just one little thing fun.

How do you consider a night in the wood,
is it serendipitous dazzling pretty or good?
And how does one reflect on a summer’s day,
when the cheerful vivacity is washed away?
I spent a day in my house and it was not nostalgic
but of ennui and melancholy and was hardly lethargic
Yet the next day I spent a day with these thoughts,
and the revenge of the of these luminous words was wrought.