Cellar Confinement
Too good to be true
Oh so commonly expressed
More like grey skies and black clouds
Or even dark cells and rusted gates
Feeling like a prisoner to your own
Resentment and persecution of feelings out of reach
The keys to your cell are on the ground
But out of reach
Another you is on the outside
Screaming to let you out
Pick up the keys and let him out
Forced by yourself and your own mind
To build a tree so far and wide
That you've become lost in your own emotion
And paradox seems to fill your head
But fear not, the keys aren't out of reach
They are in your cell
So let you out
Let you be
Trim the tree, dont chop it down
New iron smelling of new iron gate
Open and good as new
Yellow sun, and feathery wind
Feels good across her smooth skin
Yes this is the one, the one that let me in
Be gone with you, move on again
Don't let her let you in
On your own and choice you make
Do not expect a giant tree
But let it blossom if it will
Now stand before thee, seeds and hand
Grey clouds and black sky
I have done it again
Copyright © Preston Zeller | Year Posted 2005
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