The Sun shines a sharp
Sickly bright
I’m caressed in artificial yellow light.
The wind carries the smell of rain.
You hold onto my tears
Then shed them on this ungodly plain.
I tell myself-
I am free
But I see only what you want of me
You switch these sets when I’m sleeping
But I always hear your footsteps creeping
I have no choice
No red. No blue.
My life is just this game to you.
You call this prison,
This Hell- my shrine.
The truth is,
I was yours before I was ever mine.