Prisoners
To please the people around,
We become prisoners as they become the hound.
Silencing our voice,
To be typical we make a choice.
Shaping the tools for our cage,
We start slipping off the edge.
The edge of our destruction,
Prisoners in bars of our construction.
Though we have the key,
To be out of this captivity,
Free souls, we can't be,
If we prefer such fragility.
Each day the cell is getting smaller,
Crushing our bones as it's colder.
Piece by piece we start to lose,
The satisfaction of people over our personality when we choose.
How come we be prisoners,
When we're the key holders,
How can opinions be our slaying masters?
Copyright © Md. Imjamul Hoque Bhuiyan | Year Posted 2021
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