Limited

Why do I have to stay here?

Trapped in this place. Unwanted, Uncared for. What's the point of even living, when I can die, and be wrapped in God's arms there in Heaven.

Heaven is my dream. A place I would like to stay and be cared for. Where I'm loved and wanted. There, I can be free...

Life is just a big canvas where I can pour my soul and thoughts into it.

Yet, it doesn't seem that way.

To me, Life is like a small canvas, where if I state my opinions or feelings, people would judge me, and say what I can and can't say, as if their controlling my life. How is that big? When it just seems so small...

I feel limited, tied down and can only do so little. Controlled by Puppetmasters as if I'm their Puppeteer.

"Do this." A fancy twirl I'm forced to do.

Now I fell on the cold, hard, stage floor.

What is this canvas...?

Dreaming is my big canvas. Where I can really pour my thoughts, my soul, into that vas space. No one can say what I can and can't say or do. Nobody will hear or see my imagination...my canvas, but only me.

All I can do, right now, is live through life, and be like an innocent, but hurt leaf. Gliding through time, Gliding through worries, hurt, and lies.

That's all I can do, till the end of time.