Invisible ceiling, holding me down
Trapped
Somewhere I cannot be found
Prison of ice, steel daggers in my heart
Trapped
But nothing can tear us apart
Words unspoken keep me here
Trapped
By the truth that I fear
Knowing too much makes us wise
Trapped
In a circle of infinite lies
Lying down when we should fight
Trapped
By not defending what we know is right
Quarantine might be affecting my poetry. Six days into writing poetry and I must say "Not dead yet."
Scary, right?
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