Trapped

A trench in my heart you plough,
me – out of your life you throw,
tied to the job, I cannot go,
to these conditions – I bow.
 
Likewise you try to withdraw,
standing on two sides of a window,
inevitable, that we each other saw.
 
On the glass frosty flowers grow,
a freezing breeze does blow,
and the temperature is low.
 
Inside you, is there a glow?
Are you afraid, don’t want it to show?
 
Is it love or bitterness I saw?

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