Trapped

Standard

Manifestations of our past concur with

The concentrated fog of the future ahead.

We build our destiny’s walls with bricks

Of what should have been instead.

Our struggles thrive off unbearable hurt

That were weighted on us long ago.

Those words, goodbyes, and wounds unhealed

Are quick to become our foe.

So we hold out for the Band-Aids

The quick-fixes that cover the gap.

And all the while life passes,

                           We never stop feeling trapped.

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