Broken Wing

I’m screaming at the top of my lungs, Yet no sound is dispatched These guilty grazers are all culprits, As my voice has been snatched, It’s as if my neck has been tightly draped By a never-ending string Suffocation is the last thing on my mind But rather, the inaudibility it will bring. With no force or wind for lift-off, It’s as if I was handed a swing, Or it’s as if I was born a bird, But someone mindlessly cut down my wings. Now I’m left here thinking, why didn’t they take a limb instead? At least then, I would have my only tool of communication, my tone imbedded. The sound of laughter is not the same, When you envy the very source. It’s only cause you can’t provide the same amusement, As much as you TRY to enforce. Expressing yourself is the farthest aim, When it’s a struggle to say your own name, It’s then when you enter a mind state full of shame, That your conscience is set on flames, You start to reminisce about what you predicted to be, and what you became You crave and ache for people’s acclaims But you can never be an impudent lioness, unable to tame, As much as it grinds your stomach in agony, you never declaim. Just stare at the outside from your window frame, Wishing you could mesh into their world, and just be the same. You just want serenity, assured you’ll get a chance That you’ll gain acceptance, holding this outsider stance. But not everyone welcomes with open arms Some remain wicked inside, and deceive others with their charm But then there are those, who welcome with open arms and more Those are the ones, who’s hearts are decorated with love; like a luxurious decor The same dear ones that make you almost forget about your pain Like a ferocious feline, your sanity is distorted; unable to train. Day by day, you wonder how to maintain This life your living, this epic game. However, in this game, there are no winners Just very few noblemen and many sinners But in the end, it doesn’t matter what position you claim, But rather how strategically you play this game.