When will I be able to get out this slender column
bottle?
When will the Owner take the cap away?
He's flicking around it
His hand I can see
but I can't see any other else beside my own.

My tears could compose into a snowball
inside the glass tall bottle
He wouldn't let anyone turn the cap
I don't know his reasons .

I don't know how long
The walls are so slippery, I am pushed down again
It's not just me, others like me, in the sames
are trapped, are batoned, are caned,
inside the tiny hollow bottle .

In our own bottles
it's no less than prison
The hope is the cap
But, When?
Will the cap be opened?
Knock, knock
Is Thou actually listening us?