Shackled

I stood before them, in time for examination,
   Like a soldier, before the heat of battle...

Restless, wanting to be at peace,
   And here I am once again restrained,
   For I am branded a violent criminal,
   When all I wanted was to be free of them.
They don’t speak my language,
   Yet they try to make me theirs,
   But how can I belong in such a world,
   When I lay here, sullen and never heard?
Come, my spirit spiraling,
   Near the depths of my own humanity,
   Where innocent angels feel entrapped,
   And where even men fear to tread.
I sometimes want, yet try to taunt,
   But how can I be a part of this society,
   For all the crimes I have not yet committed?
   Yet they find me guilty...already.
Shackle me to their ideals of purity,
   For it is nothing but words, so false and unkind,
   And pass their judgment on me,
   As I turn to look at thee and call your name...