the mouse that roared's picture

It used to be larger
This pasture I allow myself
A box with no walls
That I could see...
I ran free.

But I get older and the walls close in.
I grow with the box's shrinking.
I can barely move,
But I don't try.

Soon I fear
These walls will suffocate me.
Or maybe they will mold
To my body
A full-body cast,
A mask
Paralyzing me?

Or maybe I shall simply
Move within the walls,
Trapped by my own thought in this skin.