She was trapped, 

Trapped between the impending standards of the people around her,

Stuck as if the cement had dried to mold the curves of her life, 

Put on display like the statue she was told to be.

Her stone is cracking;

It crumbles bit by bit as the problems sit heavier on her shoulders. 

She wants to not care,

be the bird flying above the statues,

But fear is present in the home of hope.

And she fears if she stops breaking herself in order to succeed, 

Then failure will descend. 

And where there is failure, disappointment follows closely behind.

She doesn’t want everyone to be more disappointed in her than she already is with herself.

So she remains trapped.