Here, life is pictured as a cage, and the surprising part is who holds the key: not enemies or strangers, but the things the speaker loves. Our attachments, the poem suggests, can both trap us and free us. The speaker asks a hard question, "What will help you out?", and leaves it hanging, as if no easy answer exists.
The middle lines shift the focus inward. "You are what you love, / Not who loves you" says identity comes from what we care about, not from the people who care about us. That idea feeds into the ending, where the people who want you free aren't the ones who can actually free you. Their wishes don't unlock anything.
The mood is quiet and a little bleak, but not hopeless. The tone is blunt and almost advisory, like someone who has been stuck and learned that rescue has to come from within, from your own passions and choices. The title, "Captured," fits that sense of being held, even by yourself.