Trapped

I was always that kid who was in everybody else's way. A waste of space, just another mouth to feed. The one who was told I could never do anything right. And, I was blamed for everything that was wrong. The one who was told I would never amount to anything in life. That I was good for nothing. I was trapped. Imprisoned in my own world like a goldfish in a bowl. Swimming endlessly in circles, and no where to go. Knowing that there was more out there than this. But, no access to it. I was trapped. Caught in a glass jar like a summer firefly. With no hope of release. Forced to let my green glow fade out, like all of my dreams. All the while, screaming as loud as I could, yet hearing nothing. I was trapped. Then, one day, years later, I found my release. Poetry. I had never known such freedom. I was now able to escape, and go wherever my pen could take me. But, more recently I found myself trapped once again, within this freedom. Which, I am desperately trying to break free of now.