Trying to find my voice and resist the urge to slip into someone else's

I stared as if through a window at the laundry being set to dry; silk sheets billowing like sails meant to carry us, but never making it off the clothesline. Stuck, like  precious stones in the rocks of an abandoned mine. And for all my talk--I've been shouting at these stones to take a walk, "Break free! Break free!" But they won't listen to a word I say. I guess that's the nature of a stone, anyway. But if it never leaves the cave, it can never know how bright it was meant to shine.