Cellophane isn't deep enough.

Over the cellophane chatter there was a faint sound Yet when I whispered shhh It was like I was drowning in a staircase of voices One over the other Louder and higher than the last. Ideas splattered like paint across the walls Yet not one pursued to be a portrait Almost as if afraid of the permanence No idea was as thick as honey, unable to stick. Alone and vulnerable Like a daisy in the wind A weed lucky enough to be called a flower Now tell me may, Have you yet found the power To answer my beckoning call? One not easily heard above the crinckle of cellophane conversation. See through tissue paper Fluff, often used but left behind Partially amused, while time passed by There was never enough. Can you hear me over the wind? This cellophane box I seem to be trapped in. There is no hope for those who can not adapt So for now I'm hopeless Or maybe it's you The cellophane hopefull I can still see through.