So slowly I'm losing
who I've sworn to be.
A promise in pencil
that years have made so hard to read.
I've spent my life building walls
brick by brick and bruise by bruise...
a birdcage religion that whispered me to sleep.

But time is spinning silk
with the devil's patience,
it binds my hands so quietly
that soon it becomes a part of me.

So soften these edges and straighten out my tie.
And help me remember
the hope that I have compromised.

Please be a broken record for me.