We trip because we do not want to break
We scrutinize what we let in
Yet we call ourselves free flowing in the wind
We have wings but hide in cocoons
Were we trip silently like caged baboons
We can fly any time we like
Instead we just trip silently
Demons take flight
Wicked with brooms
Whisking away what had just bloomed
Stealing the good that just happened
Leaving us with a head trip that is snappin
Left to trip silently