We spend years thinking the walls around us are unbreakable, only to discover they were never locked at all. This poem about freedom reminds us that courage isn’t about waiting for permission, it’s about stepping through the door we already hold the key to.
They tell you to keep your head down.
To be small.
To be safe.
Fear sits beside you,
breathing down your neck,
pretending to be a friend.
Years pass.
Shoulders curve.
Your voice goes unused.
The walls rise higher.
And you believe the lie:
there is no way out.
But listen,
the lock you fear?
It’s rusted open.
Stand up.
Push the door.
When your legs shake,
move anyway.
When the weight pulls,
step harder.
Step until the air tastes different.
Step until your shadow walks beside you,
not ahead.
Because the truth is brutal and beautiful:
The cage was never locked.
And you’ve had the key
in your grip
the whole time.
