I am Schrödinger’s Cat

I am an expirement of Schrödinger
As cat to box I am unseen, entrapped
You stare in wonder with a pointed finger
Sitting silent in wait when darkness lapped
I am stuck but don't let your thoughts linger
Long on my nightmare o' fright and sorrow
Inside my boxy cage fills with smoke from Marbolo
I've put up a fight but panic sets in at night
My cage holds me with no more tears to cry unto tomorrow
May it bring back my light, 'till then I sit tight
I live if I can begin to confront
If trauma could kill, it's me which it will hunt

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A poem written about how one struggles with trauma, written in iambic pentameter, for fancification purposes