the trapped butterfly

i'm wanting to write
but my eyes are threatening tears
and my mind is torn and tired

i feel in a lonely cage
lonely lost little
terribly trapped and contained
like a mouse in a house
on the floorboards
no escape
the wrong place
the wrong time

knowing i should be free
i'm a bird without the wings to fly
no rights to an adventure
run that field
fly in the direction of my choice

i am trapped
four sides to this house
four sides to my life
four sides to my days
it's all pretty much the same
boring
trapping
angering

the four sides of my house
are the four sides of my life
a neverending sameness
irritating my mundane mind
moving along in the same old fashion

a sluggishly slow snail
how can she turn into a bird?
is that even possible?
flying instead of slithering
living instead of existing
taking in views of a different nature
not staying stupidly in that same old box
like she has for years on end

i question the possibility sometimes
i question myself and i question change
a future
sometimes i struggle to see how
stuck slithering and slow
wandering how to get from a to b
frustration filling me up
making me want to cry

i just wish to fly
but i struggle to know how
feels out of my reach somehow
always feeling out of my reach

i am a captured caged butterfly
in the wrong place
trapped perpetual predicaments
situation situation
problem problem
so wrong so wrong

because butterflys are meant to fly