He crooned soft and slow Bringing the harsh truth to light The ghosts of my past They haunt me like the rest of them I've never begged them to leave Your sublime words were a worn blanket They kept me warm for passing weeks Before fading just like your smile Mine is becoming more jaded every morning.
she is never told she is beautiful enough for it to count or stick in some anchoring way you cant see under her skin, inside her brain black, rolling, grey if you knew, what then would you say
A free bird leaps on the back Of the wind and floats downstream Till the current ends and dips his wing In the orange suns rays And dares to claim the sky.
But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage Can seldom see through his bars of rage His wings are clipped and his feet are tied So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill Of things unknown but longed for still And his tune is heard on the distant hill for The caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze And the trade winds soft through The sighing trees And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright Lawn and he names the sky his own.
But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream His wings are clipped and his feet are tied So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with A fearful trill of things unknown But longed for still and his Tune is heard on the distant hill For the caged bird sings of freedom.