Gravity

Restlessness pervades my limbs;
They yearn for movement
Yet are restricted everyday.
What does each extremity seek?
Made for poetry but subjected to prose,
My body aches for a purpose,
A purpose that cannot be realized.
Legs are burdened by weight
But desire to run.
Arms designed to be raised in praise
Are pulled heavily toward the ground.
Can the weight be lifted?
Will my limbs know freedom?
Is a purpose to be recognized?
Or must I wait? Can I wait?