Poor little bird
sitting in your cage,
when you swing on the swing
do you do it in rage?
I wonder what you are thinking
when you sit on your perch?
Do you think of freedom?
flying?
nesting in trees?
or
blue skies?
sunshine?
the right to do as you please?
Poor little bird
sitting in your cage,
when you peck at the little mirror
do you do it in rage?
I wonder what you are feeling,
when you sit on your perch,
Do you feel lonely?
sad?
angry at your state?
are you longing for friendship?
do you pine for a mate?
Poor little bird
sitting in your cage,
shall I open the door,
fold it back like a page?
Would you stop
to say thank you
or is your rage due to me?
escape little bird,
fly high, fly free.
Poor little bird flaps quickly,
then out through the door,
flies to the open window,
but flies no more.
Poor little bird looks out
at the expanse of land,
then with the slightest of cheeps,
flies
to
rest
in
my
hand...
©spor
