She screams, and I wish you could see more than you do now.
Her claws raking the ground in invisible agony.
You do not feel her restless.
Her wings, entrapped within a room, not large enough
At all.

She tries to spread them in all her feathered glory,
And whenever there is enough room, you gawk.
You are struck, with awe.
Yet you mercilessly tighten your hold.

How would you know how high she can soar?
How do you know she is anything but a bore?
You wonder why she is angry.
You are cruel, for you take her agitation as character.

You tie her down and find fault that she would claw at the chains.
And then you whip her when she is noncompliant

Eagles soar to heights you cannot even begin to imagine.

So how, how to you live with yourself,
If you hold her back with your petty intelligence?

And yet you say.
She is, Arrogant
Furious,
Fussy,
Overbearing,
Irksome,
Rotten to the core
And to hell with all of them.

You say that.

Well, you dare
Now.

31.03.2022