Original artwork description:

Home

Standing in the empty field.
Surrounded by the dying straw.
I look at the stormy sky,
I guess I’m trapped.

“There are ways,” you said.
Up to the sky.
Down beneath the fence.
I look at the stormy sky,
I think I’m trapped.

You blame me for ignoring the ways,
but do I really have a choice?
I don’t have wings to fly towards the sky.
I can’t trick myself to pass through the fence.
I look at the stormy sky,
I won’t cover my eyes.

Up to the unknown.
Down beneath the covering.
There are ways.
I look at the stormy sky.
Trapped.

Materials used:

Oil

Tags: