We wake walking in darkness, craving light.
Alone within the silence, first we call,
then fearing our own weakness, choose to fight;
decide we cannot fly, hope not to fall.
We are the progeny of mirrored halls,
reflections in a lifetime’s worth of eyes–
our years are spent to recognize ourselves;
retrace our stitches, and pick out the lies.
Imprisoned fast by all the things we are,
and all the many things we cannot be,
our minds somehow fix on the distance far;
our hearts soar linnet-high above us, free.
We build our cages, frightened of our wings–
and yet, shut tight inside, a bird still sings.
by Lydia Ondrusek
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This is part of a series of featured entries in our first-ever poetry contest.
Stay tuned for more and get ready to vote for your favorite!