Clipped wings and hobbled ankles His idea of love Blinders and in a box His idea of love Why did I give him the keys?
A jogger jogs to clear the head I have heard that said A dancer dances and the artist paints For the glory of the audience or for The pleasure of expression?
Such a big world No physical boundaries to restrict Yet, I have become at risk To have wings clipped and hobbled ankles Handed the keys over in the name of love
catastrofree Poetry (1)