I scratch when things are good
I claw my way thorugh fights
But when I'm thrown in and caged
I mark the door which holds me
Hoping to get out
Yawoling and scratching
With both paws on the door
Hoping someone can open
The captivity which bounds me
I look up at my hands
Which move back and up scratching
And realize my weak point
For the only one who
can open the door
Must help themselves to do so.
COMMENTS
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TheCrookedCross
18:57 May 22 2010
very interesting imagery..but can be true...in many ways
Balthazarsonoflilith666
04:33 May 23 2010
A very poetic view of irony