My dreams have wings; the spirit soars high
Like an angel it wants to touch the sky.
You hold on to me, calling it love,
Then why do I feel like a caged dove,
Shackles pulling me down to earth?
Perhaps grasping too tightly at times,
Makes one's identity feel threatened.
Perhaps not reading between the lines
Closes in the walls of regret.
What do I want, You ask confused.
I shake my head a little amused.
I am meant to grow like a tree,
Can you be the water to my sea?
I am meant to burn the old and fix,
Can you be the fire to my phoenix?
Instead your hug, suffocates me to cry,
Why do you hold on so tight,
That letting go seems right;
Hold No matter how much we try!
~ Suranya