Young bird learns to fly
By spreading his wings widely
His lungs get relax

the sky was blue
birds that looked like
strokes of black ink
painted their way through the air,
the golden sun glinting off of their inky brushstroke wings
proud and defiant
like a person who knows their mind

i laid on the deck, face-up
camera in hand
trying to capture
these fleeting beings of freedom
only for the paint to drip too fast
ending up blurred in the lens,
but those golden glints,
snapped and stored away forever

A little bird in the cage,
A cage with invisible bars
getting dense with every passing second,
The more she tries to free herself, the more it bites on her skin,
leaving scars, imprinting her mind and soul,
The cage has thorn around it,
Getting sharpen with every edgy spell of her kinship
The more they do, the more sharp are the thorns,
the more they cut, the heavier she bleeds.
The more they misinterpret her shrieks,
The more her wings get shattered.
A helpless little bird in the cage,
Lies in the pool of her blood,
Trying to get out of unbreakable rage.