The Cage: An essay on human weakness

From a young age,
My home has been a cage.
A lot of people have taken part,
In building each and every bar.

The cage is beautiful;
Golden bars and clean interiors.
From the outside it looks wonderful,
Inside it´s cold and lifeless.

My parents built the base;
They started the whole thing.
The bars they placed are made of conformism and oppression,
Made of no´s and passive aggressive punishments and tensions.

My friends maintained it,
They gave it a shine.
Their contribution is made of hypocrisy and betrayal,
Made of taking what was mine.

Society didn’t stay behind;
Contributed with its medieval mind.
Never open to suggestions,
Never answering your questions.

The past helped by being a constant reminder,
Of things not done and opportunities left behind.
As for the present, well let’s just say it could be kinder.
I just wish the future looked a little brighter.

I contributed a little,
By taking it and not saying a word.
My own weakness locked me in,
Built with the conflicts within.

What is the cage itself?

I have the answer.
The cage is much like someone with cancer;
Pretty on the outside,
Messed up on the inside.

It is a plastic fantasy that doesn’t feel real;
It’s a placebo for a real life.
It doesn’t allow you to feel.
It doesn’t allow you to move on or deal

The walls close in everyday
I wish I didn’t have to stay
The cage becomes a monster
I have to quickly slay

One day the cage will close in completely
It will explode, taking me along
And when I’m gone
I hope people notice what they did wrong.