Chains

You said you wanted to make me your wife
you wanted me with you through the good times and the strife
then you held on to me tightly, almost as if I was your whole life
that’s when I realized; I could never be… your wife.
that’s when I realized; I wasn’t ready… for that kind of life.

The kind of life where my only job is to look pretty,
and yours is to provide for me and soon the to be born junior Berry,
is not the kind of life that was meant for me!

The kind of life where I’m to be arm candy,
while you get to do, and achieve and brag about the whole frenzy,
is not the kind of life at all suited for me!
The kind of life where I always say yes,
while day after day, you wound my self-confidence,
is not the life I’m picking for me!

I still believe in miracles and surprises.
I still believe in not making the big compromises.
And most of all I still fall, under the category of the hopeless romantic
who when faced with harsh reality, often romanticizes.

I believe in marrying for love,
the kind where your body tingles with a single whiff of his scent,
where butterflies run amok at the mere thought of two bodies entwined,
and any second spent apart feels like one that’s most tragically misspent!

I still believe in all the fairy-tales and myths,
which tell you that “the one” truly exists.
I’d probably still believe in princes, the Tooth Fairy and Santa Clause,
if it weren’t for certain killjoy science books,
and pesky frogs, that when kissed, stay frogs.

I still believe that I have wonders to come,
despite everything I’m told by rhyme and reason.
I still believe my life holds a greater secret, a much bigger purpose
than what’s been expected of me through each and every season.
I still believe I can touch the sun and the sky,
If only I decide, that that’s something I’d like to try!

No wonder I’m not ready to settle down,
with an egotistical banker born only to frown
on every imperfection of my body and soul,
and on every shortcoming I might have in my whole.

No wonder I didn’t want to be tied down,
with vows and your children making me drown
No wonder I didn’t want to give you my freedom,
It’s the only thing left of me, that you haven’t sucked into ruinous boredom.
It’s the only thing left of me, that you just couldn’t blatantly poison!

So I walked away,
while the crowds stared in shock.
And when they tried to stop me,
I told them all to find some other fool to keep 

restrained in golden chains and locks!
And I kept on walking, with my freedom in my backpack
and everything else lost, and my whole life off track,
with my dignity in shambles and my hope out of stock.
But soon the backpack got heavy,
so I let my freedom out.
Now she roams free once again,
While I frolic, out, free and proud.