I will always be bounded to this house. 
This house is my burden,
and my parents continually drag me down to it. 
The window continuously opens,
saying, "Come out, Sarah! Now is your chance!"
It is soon shut by what seems to be an outside force.
As if to say,
"You belong in this house, Sarah. You will never be away,
you will reside here,
til death, you shall stay."  
You could say it be fate, bonding me.
But fate, I doubt, would be this cruel.
The parents who gave me life,
also help bury me in this house.
Their grip is strong.
One hand to the house,
the other one on my foot.
Keeping me like a lion,
naturally untamed,
but locked in the zoo
to disentegrate.
I have to escape. 
My brain has already suffered a strong disease. 
And my heart cries for freedom.
But my appearance,
just like the house,
appears normal, average.
Like nothing could ever be wrong.
But if you come in to my house, 
and take two looks,
you would notice the gray blanket covering the insides of the house.
You see the walls deteriorating from exhaustion of being inside the house.
The wall paint peeling,
The lights fadeing,
and if you keep yourself silent,
and restrain yourself from leaving the house,
you could even here a small voice,
 screaming to get out.