A person’s phobia controls her life, and no one understands.

“I can’t go outside” she cries
and what follows is a series of whys.

“Is it sunshine, the birds, the space?
What’s got your heart running a’pace?

Is it the spiders or is it all the people?
Is it tutus, volkswagons or the church steeple?”

“Well, you see, if I go outside…”
she begins, her eyes going impossibly wide

“Then I’ll drift up, up and away
There is no ceiling to get me to stay

I’m very light…I hover…I float
THAT’S why staying in gets my vote!”.