Third rate hopes, secondhand dreams,
Living life in a fishbowl,
Looking out through the curtained windows,
My imagination swallows me whole.

Flashes of colour drift past my eyes,
Blurs of perfection racing outside,
‘Let me out’ something inside me cries,
But yet in my cocoon I stay, I hide,
Afraid of what I might lose out on,
Yet more afraid of the outcome of a risk.

Feeling little more than a pawn,
Yet I don’t want it to change…
My mind is a prison, yet I am a willing captive,
So lonely inside, so scary outside,
What do I decide?

More poems about feeling different: Chaos and Maybe You Do.

This blog post is part of the blog challenge ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’ hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla.