Playdoh

The walls grow closer but I can see the light

It shines like a beacon of hope through that window

Then it is gone again

I contort and bend to fit this space

To find slight comfort in the lonely hours, days, years, life

Shifting shapes to ever fit the world

Like a glob of Playdoh in a young child’s hands

That Playdoh I used to shape my dreams

To let my imagination run wild

But wild is not what they want us to be

And dreams… just fantasy

They mean nothing

They are nothing

But the feel of that Playdoh in your hands

The knowing you can do whatever you want

Why is that gone?

Who will I be,

If it is not up to me

Well I guess we’ll see

Cause like the Playdoh I sit here limp

Unable to choose my shape

Forever to be molded by those people

Whose selfish minds will run a-muck

So I sit tight in this corner just thinking