I watch through the window,
as the rain pours down.
Feels like the nature lulling me to sleep.
The dark grey skies, so clouded and grim,
has cast my room into blackness.
This darkness it comforts me and envelopes me,
I found solace in this melancholy.
The picturesque view outside is so bewitching.
It beckons me to step out.
But my door is padlocked shut
This is my prison and I am a prisoner.
I won’t lament about that now.
This place is cozy and pleasant.
I’ve come to enjoy this solitude.
Here I am shielded from the vile world.
I’d be safe here for an eternity.
Yet when I look out the window,
I long to walk on the damp grass.
I want to feel the rain on my face
To jump in the puddles
To sail my carefully crafted paper boats.
I find myself yearning to break free,
to step outside even for a moment.
I clenched my fists looked down at my hands,
I felt powerless, helpless and feeble.
As I unclenched my fist I noticed,
I was holding onto something.
I had been a prisoner here,
Without knowing all along that I held the key.

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