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Cat II: Unbound
If green 
 is the color of envy,
 then I 
 am a meadow of spite.
 So, I close my eyes 
 to hear the echo of light.
 Yet - no whisper or sound
 For, you wish to be unbound.
 Ergo, I open my hand
 and there you are, quaint, on my palm.
 I am broken, 
 the future is unplanned.
 If this is how it will remain,
 I turn my back from pain
 and sit quietly in the rain.

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