is how they
trap purity
they are a cold stare
they box in movements
they box in colours
they cap flight
they hear their own
they separate me
from holding your hand
and
they separate me
from the walks
and talks
we could have
they separate me
from Union
i am wheeled away
and i can not
reach you and hold you
Within the bars, within the Keeper
is Father
Within the reach
is Mother
