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It should speak,

Passionate whispers of desire

Trembling shouts of abuse

To live, to feel, but it cannot

Trapped in a square frame.

 

Painted with a hoax

It should create, 

Soothing dreams of silk sheets

Breathtaking compositions 

To aspire, to love, but how

Suspended in time. 

 

Break, you are not a cover

You are life. 

Running, searching, and aspiring 

Towards individulaity,

It will hide 

Until a number no longer dictates. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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