Nausha Ameen's «far away» starts with a feeling most of us have had at some point: being physically somewhere and not feeling that you are there. "Lost in thoughts" sets the scene, and the next lines widen the distance. Home, which should be the nearest place there is, "feels like a distant place," and "living feels like being with strangers." The poem never says why. We get no event, no argument, no named person, and that silence works in its favour. Because the cause is missing, the feeling is all that remains, and readers can fill the gap with their own experience.
The poem is built as a quiet slide from the inside outward. The first lines stay in the speaker's head, in thoughts and in the sense of time slipping. Then come "rules meant to be followed" and "dreams that are meant to fly away," which bring in the outside world and what it expects. By the end we are looking at one concrete picture, a caged bird. Almost everything before it is abstract, so the bird lands with extra weight. It is the first thing we can actually see, and it explains the rest.
The most telling choice is the language of obligation. "Meant to" appears twice and "supposed to" twice more, and these phrases describe how things ought to be, not how they are. Look at how "meant" is used in the middle of the poem. Rules are meant to be followed, which is a demand. Dreams are meant to fly away, which is a release. The same word covers both, and the two sit uneasily side by side, as if the speaker is being told to obey and to be free in the same breath. "Fly away" is also doubly charged. It can mean escape, but it can also mean vanish. Dreams that fly away might be soaring, or they might simply be gone, and the poem leaves that open.
The ending turns this pattern into an accusation. "Freedom is far away" repeats the title and makes it the poem's most direct statement, and the shared f sound of "freedom" and "far" seems to tie the two ideas together. Then comes "freedom is kept in a cage." Notice that it is freedom that is caged here, not the bird. The grammar treats an idea as a captive object, "kept" like something owned. Only afterwards do the bird lines arrive, and both begin with "when": "when birds are supposed to be free / when birds are supposed to fly." The sentence never completes. We are given the condition and not the consequence, so the poem finishes on an unresolved "when," which leaves a sense of waiting.
Formally, the poem is free verse with no rhyme and no end punctuation, and everything is in lowercase. Lines run from about four to nine syllables and read like thoughts jotted down, not polished statements. That fits the subject, since a poem about feeling lost would sound odd if it were too neat. Sound still does some work. "Lost" opens two lines ("lost in thoughts," "lost in time"), "feels like" appears twice, and "away" keeps coming back in the title, in "fly away," and in "far away." The repeated word is a kind of echo, and the poem seems to keep arriving at the same place it is trying to leave. Because there are no full stops, lines also bleed into one another. "Lost in time / rules meant to be followed" can be read as two separate ideas or as one, with time itself turning into a set of rules, and the poem never says which.
What makes «far away» worth reading is how much it does with plain words. The bird in a cage is a familiar image, but the poem renews it by framing it with "supposed to" and so turning the image into a complaint about a gap. On one side is how home, life, and freedom should feel. On the other is how they do feel. Anyone who has felt out of step with the place or the rules around them can recognise that gap, and the poem names it simply and without pleading. It also trusts its reader. By not explaining the speaker's situation, it asks us to notice how often we say that things are "supposed to" be a certain way, and what it costs when they are not.