To The Culprit Of My Restraint Poem by Margarita Sabuero

I am a celebration of your greatness

A soaring victory molded by your hands

A mastery, a work of art, a mystery.



I have been stared at with eyes that drowned with admiration

Men have traveled the world over to peruse me

I have triggered thousands of things to be written

describing, the waves, the lengths, the pressures of your strokes

the colors and the textures that compose my beauty



But truly all my life I have been ignored

Shadowed over by this seemingly perfect creation that I am

Hanged and Imprisoned in a four-cornered cell

Who cares if it was made of Gold?



And each day passes people arrive

Look at me like I was their own image

Glorifying, Discerning

And I gawk back mirroring the same thoughts

Without words, saying to each other:

'Where you're at is where I want to be'



Why wouldn't you tell them,

-So they would stop wondering too,

Alas! they would stop questioning:

'What was she thinking? '

'Why was she smiling? '-

the price I pay for your genius to be stored?





So why wouldn't you tell them?

How I laugh at them

How I think of them badly as fools

Praising a captive, wishing to be jailed

only to be looked at, only to be exalted

Forgetting the world. Forgetting Freedom!



And so they would ask:

'Is she happy? '

but who really cares?