This is the woman who stands on the brink of escaping from abuse, but the confusion in her own heart holds her back. She is not convinced she can choose to be free. Maybe a sense of duty holds her back, or a sense of shame .. maybe she can't believe that she would ever be wanted or received anywhere else .. they may be invisible chains, but they are very powerful ones ..
From here, beyond the glass, I see
The gladness on the other side.
Their eyes meet, and their laughter rings.
Their hearts are always open wide.
Out here it is a lonely place.
The wind blows sharp and rather cold.
All meaningless the words blow past,
And only robot arms enfold.
Rain drizzles down half-heartedly,
And all is unrelenting grey --
At least black night would show the stars,
But this is neither night nor day.
The stunted shrubs, the bare-shaved grass
The trees that never fruit or flower,
A taint, like burning, on the air
The acrid stink of hope turned sour.
There is a door, but how shall I,
All uninvited, walk within?
And how would they receive me there
Who was not born to be their kin.
And what of those who hold me here,
Who grip my heart in duty’s name?
Can I desert them for that light
Or would that be my final shame?