Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2016
There are no bars,
Its still a prison:



My little blue bird.
Softly sing in my ear
So your song may flood my person.

Amidst your music there is no wind,
Breezes cease around you.
Floating with my feathered friend on the quiet calms of desensitised  living.

I see of your gracefulness, other eyes are not so kind:
Brittle men and rigid woman.
They've never heard you sing.

Still my heart and close my eyes;
And Sing me all your lullabies.
Oh Little bird o' feathers blue,
In my ear shes hums her tune.


I beg dont fly, Stay at my side
a harsh world sits beneath you.
Without a song, i hear outside
The people make me lonely.

I need you back, come to my window,
And sing to me of empty days,
i recede at peace and just observe,
With numb songs from my little bird.

My little
blue, bird.
She only sings a single word.

May time please not forget her.
Jack Michael Westland
Written by
Jack Michael Westland  Aberdeen, Scotland
(Aberdeen, Scotland)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems