Pains, sufferings, and curiosities, contained
Never free to fly out, discover, and see
So eyes of shiny blankness be of living enmity
Blinded of being, that's what I be
I like to discover the world, yet they took me to a place dark and gloomy
Filled with sorrow and contempt
I was made dead of all emotion
Happiness and excitement, a mere illusion
Though hurt inflicted me
I cannot deflect
The pain caused
That’s thought to be love and revere of home
Things understandable made blurry in my sight
To decide is of their doing
To follow is what’s left, nothing more nothing less
The flight is of the essence, but the pilot is not me
Dream endlessly to be pilot, but someday can I be?
Becoming dull are my claws in the alcove I reside
I so yearns
To earn happiness and contentment in piloting the flight
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