I used to spend hours wishing you would remove the cast iron shackles
under the black clouds of doubt that spiraled through me.
I could see them visibly holding me down. Linked through
my dusty wings tearing if I dared to move. I could feel the iron
key that locked the door to my mind, it hung there teasingly
day after night after year. I walked on tip toe to avoid the
black shadow of death and one day I looked and saw,
I had nothing left.
You had taken my belief. You had taken my soul
and all that was left was a gaping black hole.
I used to wish you would take away this cage
that you solemnly refuse to accept that you made.
I used to wish so many things and now I wish no more.
For the darkness has lifted of that I am so sure.
Those iron bars were not so tough to break to create a space
big enough for only me to see the sky and stars without a trace.
And the tears in my wings will surely heal as I spread them far
and I know that in my life I played that part
and those iron keys that once hung there
they’re gone now without a care.
I used to wish you would remove the iron shackles that held me
now I see, I found the answers that I needed and they were always inside of me.
Karen Hayward (copyright) 2015.