Trapped in those four walls,
No window, no shine.
It has been long,
Since someone called you ‘mine’.
Creases on the bed,
Both sides - all yours.
A feeling of release,
Like winning internal wars.
What is your story?
They keep prying, you can tell.
Slowly warming up,
To the confines of your shell.
That winter chill you once felt,
Now replaced by a sunny blue.
Flowers blooming again,
Perhaps it’s a clue.
In between these lines,
They see parts of you for a reason.
Finally breaking down those walls,
You are becoming a new season.
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