He sits and awaits 

Shiny orb in hand,

For the day his tail will unfurl

And his metal shell

Will turn back to sand. 

Poor dragon,

Captured mid-roar,

Named for the stars in his eyes;

For he is now forced

To only dream

That he can soar.

He's called to contemplate

The reasons of which

A girl might down vanilla vodka

And write poetry 

In his presence;

One cannot see a broken heart. 

Poor dragon;

Used to being looked at

For inspiration

But the common thing he shares

With the one who is love impaired 

Is that both are constricted 

And rather conflicted;

Both are held back from what's fair.