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Shackled
March 29, 2010
Through open doors I can see
But I can no longer walk through
Though my mind tells me,
My body will not allow
A mangled mess of what is to be
And the warped view left behind
The hands of the clock drift away like an anchor let loose
I can hear the voices now
They scare me
A coat of buckles and pins holding me back from myself
Though I will not hurt anyone
But they do not believe me
For my past proves me wrong
Shackled by the ankles like a dog to its home
Have I gone mad?
Not for me to determine
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