I sing to my captor through the bars,
But all he does is mock me, mimic my song,
Trapped, ensnared, fortified.
I have not yet learned to fly
But I have not yet yearned to die:
There is still time to hope, to dream, to fail.
Time has allowed me to realise many a thing,
Like the key that I clasp and the lock that it fits
Just. Out. Of. Reach.
Time has allowed me to reflect,
Like the mirror that shows me my captor,
Previously a window, now a truth.
Just. Out. Of. Time.