Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Flight


Once a bird has flown the cage
The safety of convention
Is an oppressive burden
Upon her tender wings

Wings that ache to feel the rush of wind
Wings that have found their purpose
Wings that have already tasted the creamy blue sky
And cannot fold or fit in
Like they once did.

Once a bird has flown the cage
The gleam of its gold bars
No longer enchants her.

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