Shall I compare my freedom
father?
To that of a caged bird…
The pretty and
multicolored birds hit the window
In their speed and
eagerness to discover this new world
Their eyes twinkle with
elated bliss
Such is the nature of
birds with wings
Father this cage is too
small
My wings hurt and bleed
from the inside out
Even the little bird seeds
always in plenty taste so bland now
You teach me how to be
beautiful; a beautifully hidden secret…
In constant endless
grooming
I hurt myself father,
I hurt myself trying to
hurt you
Every Sunday we walk in
the park and you let me fly off for a minute
I fly too close to the
sun, my beautifully groomed wings sparkle
Like a glint in an old
man’s eyes...
I sing songs of freedom in
my cage
The songs that you taught
me…
A freedom I know nothing
about
I shed a lonely tear, and
you’ve packed and left
Left me enough raisins,
enough water that I may neither thirst nor sleep hungry
You’re back soon… smelling
of the strange lands yonder
Being a stranger with my
fragility.
