Chained Hands

Chained hands I hold up to the sky,
Fly from my fingertips a butterfly,
I watch in envy as it flits way up high,
Floating with ease and grace,
Such a thing some day I shall never achieve,
To be so free as that wild thing be.

A tiger I am stripped of my stripes,
My pads so cut and ragged sliced,
My roar might as well be a squeak,
So unheard a tiger such as me,
Tiger meant to prance with might,
Not this tiger, stripped of stripes.

Told was I, to reach for the sky,
Yet the world is far too large to try,
Follow my dreams, but much too big,
I'm the spider full of words,
My web becoming tangled with things absurd,
Fantisies and wishes not deserved.

Blushing peacocks all but surround me,
I sit, an ugly crow, full of wishes, but no,
The taunts the peacocks give to me,
Destroy the hope of colors, so,
I hide behind my black velvet wings,
Darker color they never miss.