Blinders for Solace

At my window I stand
and marvel at Spring
with a glory-fest
that even God Himself
must throw up his chest.

Newborn leaves
of wet seaweed green,
sway in and out
of all encompassing perfection,
while prismatic flowers tense
and explode all along
the barbed wire fence.

The others come often,
to snigger and laugh,
while I stand chest against wall
and face pressed to glass.
For I dare not to turn
to the left or the right
for the cinderblocks of gray
arrest my soul, heart and sight.

Forever trapped in body,
for an eternally
tainted mind.
I'm under no illusions
why my freedom
was snipped,
for it's clear
I'm a danger;
to many young children,
a malevolent stranger.

But how I ache
to discover
how is it that this God,
who could create
such a Spring,
with all of His powers
He'd choose me to sting?