Closets.
Always dark and frightening.
Illuminated only by ominous lightning.
We all live in closets.
Closets.
Always powerful and so restraining.
Never any idea how much time is remaining.
We all live in closets.
Closets.
Always protecting us, and shielding us from pain.
It does our thinking for us, invalidating our brain.
We all live in closets.
Closets.
Always wonderful things.
They control our thoughts and clip our wings.
We all live in closets.
Closets.
Always so comforting, no one wants to leave.
No one wants to better themselves, no one wants to believe.
We all live in closets.
Closets.
I broke out of mine.
Relocated to Cloud Nine.
You all live in closets.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
dont get the part about relocating to cloud nine. i loved the whole poem, the whole effect, and its meaning. but the cloud nine thing seems a little trite. and a little out of place. you think?