She Longs To Be Free

She paints a life in soft-spun gold,  

A dream where love won’t lose its hold.  

She speaks of mornings, hand in hand,  

Of simple joys, a life well-planned.  

She whispers of a quiet home,  

Of love that never needs to roam.  

She swears that all she wants is me,  

But I can see—she longs to be free.  

Her eyes drift past the life she draws,  

A longing laced between her pause.  

She craves the world beyond our door,  

Yet tells herself she wants no more.  

No walls can hold a restless heart,  

No love can make her torn soul part.  

She wants this life—she swears it's true,  

But deep inside, she’s passing through.