Held against your will, unable to speak, seeming bound for life
but if you could only get close enough to the window to inscribe “Help”
It seems no one even notices, or do they?
Where is your sting? Who put out your fire?
Lately, a generic brand of the real you.
So much uncertainty, invisible to the naked eyes,
discernible only to those who dare to see beyond the adornments.
You wear them well but if only they too could speak.
Would they tell the story of “what was”
A message of hope from He who sees all, knows all, and can do the impossible:
Let Me In…..