Underneath the skin
My spirit lies waiting, waiting and waiting,
waiting to leap into the sky,
to expand into the horizon, but still waiting.
Underneath the skin, my spirit is trapped.
My spirit lies quivering in anticipation,
frustrated at being kept caged,
someday to reach a new realm of sanity.
Underneath the skin, my spirit is trapped.
Lashing out at the chains binding it to society,
intrigued at the subtleties of hypocrisy,
losing its way in the confused maze of diplomacy.
Underneath the skin, my spirit is trapped.
