Red Room Where the Writers Are

I stand still
A bird upon the window sill
I try to pass
Through this mysterious thing called glass
I feel pain
I will go insane
How come I see the sky
The geraniums and the butterfly
The child running along the breeze
And the merry trees
Yet I cannot get out of this morbid room
Where definite is my doom
I keep dreaming of my flight
Up high like a threadless kite
And I call
God, break down this unseen wall!
I am afraid of no wind or rain
Just bring to me my freedom again

(Acknowledge your invisible fear
And the wall will disappear.
Learn to see with your heart's light
And proceed to take your flight.)