My Chains

November 17, 2011
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I am trapped, with strange rusty chains.
My atmosphere is beautiful,
A splendorous picture,
Not perfect
Nothing’s perfect,
Just wonderful.
But those chains are strange.
They hold me in a place,
Alone with something I feel horrible
To hate.
I wish it knew, for all it does
Is play games.
And no, this isn’t a matter of the heart.
This is a matter of trust been broken,
Lies uncovered,
Cruel intentions unmasked.
And honestly,
There is no point telling anyone,
Because they will never feel the same
Until they feel the same chains.
So now I’m sawing them away,
Bit by bit.
Link by link.
Until every piece of you
Becomes non-existent in my world.

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