Her mind is mangled,

Depressed,

Running wild with thoughts...

She can't control herself.

She sits by the window quietly,

Agreeing politely...

Because everyone has hurt her subtly.

Pushing her spirit to the ground.

And in the light, her face is pale,

And in the night, her face rivals the moon.

She is pretty, but wild,

Uncontrollable... a free spirit in a world of chains.

But when dawn comes, her chains put back on,

She sits in silence until she is free.

Captivity is not her thing.

She hisses at the thought of coming hours.