As much as I’m told
The world is my oyster
I feel trapped in an oyster shell
A hard shell of calcium
Of rules
Of limited options
Of poverty
Of “medicine”
Of drugs
A calcified pineal gland
A trap not entirely of my own making
A trap nonetheless
I try to outrun it
But I find myself trapped again
The same situations
Stuck.
At home.
With a man.
With a family.
Never quite free.
I’m going to break the trap someday
But for now I’ll saw away
At the bars
Slowly but surely
Breaking myself free
(Mathieu’s Reply)
First of I don’t understand this
( like most of Shakespeare)
How something crimped and salty
Could represent ce qu’est la vie ( sakaylavee)
I think he means it fits in your hand
If you know how to handle it
You may just find beauty
Now not all oyster have a pearl
I would rather use a pineapple
It’s rough spiky uninviting
But still is sweet and tasty
The way you think of free
Has gotta be quiet lonely
To me one is only free
To set their own rules
Their own limitations
I call it ground
Or else I’d draft away
Ones only free
Build their own home
It’s got four wall
It’s not a trap
The doors unlocked
There is no key
To being free
Even Olive is trapping me
But it’s a trap I walk in freely
But it’s a trap I can’t escape
Simply because I’m not trying