The metal, shiny, trinket glimmers under the light. I can barely make out the symbol in the dark, yet under the light, I can see its six wings. They don't move--looks stiff. It's supposed to represent freedom, and yet the wings stiff as ever, locked behind glass, and stuck between a metal case tells me different.
The sounds I should be hearing are whooshing--flapping--anything that sounds loose--free. Yet all I hear when I pick this trinket up is the sounds of a metal case clanking against whatever it hits. It sounds entrapping. What was meant to be free was now trapped.
The metal wings feel fake. The glass orbs feel trapping. I thought wings were meant to feel soft, fuzzy--free. Yet all I feel is metal bars.
When the word "freedom" is said, I taste both a fake, yet hopeful taste on my tongue. If "freedom" is meant to be something hopeful, why does it feel fake? When the wind blows, I should smell something sweet. Candy, freshly baked bread, wine--yet all I smell is the scent of metal.
For something that's meant to make me feel free, I feel trapped.
