Where Will The Robin Retire? Poem by Rebecca Stansfield

Though the best things grow and do expand,
the world is shrinking in my hands.
Full of Lady and the Lake and thought,
but I'm suiting until I'm bought.
The black of my life is a depressive system,
that the lies allow a master of,
Forgiveness of my mind of blue,
forgiveness of fact and that of truth.
Where did a robin fly to?
a bird on the wire?
And what we will surrender to-
where will the robin retire?