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Woke up with headache
How day usually starts
The pain within my cranium
Does not compare to my heart

As tide creeps slowly in
Hope slyly sneaks out
The list of things I'm not
All I seem to think about

My voice dropped an octave
Sound I've grown to hate
It's just another line
In list of unattractive traits

I might be an artist
Good with words I am told
The descriptions I paint aren't pretty
Because world has made me cold

Life getting exhausting
Fed up with each breath
Have no choice but to carry on
Only cowards escape through death

Faces wearing smiles pass
Deepening my frown
Others make it look easy
Depression keeps me down

Darkness spreading as disease
Throughout expanse of my soul
My body feels like it's swallowed
By bottomless black hole

Turning corner after corner
Never reaching the maze's end
I get more and more lost
In labyrinth with every bend

Not sure if poor judgement to blame
Or the culprit is destiny
Either way stuck as a prisoner
Of everything I will never be
I had so much potential but I threw it all away
Marilina Sep 17
I envy the birds
How they spread their wings
And soar through the sky

Not a thought on their mind
Free to fly far away
Let the wind carry them

But here I am locked
In this small gilded cage
And my wings are clipped
annh Sep 17
A caged bird sings,
not to entertain
but in the hope
that its call
will be answered
by a familiar tune.

To the north: Can you hear me?
To the east: I am listening.
To the south: Are you there?
To the west: Until tomorrow.

‘I'm just tired of everything…even of the echoes. There is nothing in my life but echoes…echoes of lost hopes and dreams and joys. They're beautiful and mocking.’
- L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea
Bhoomi Mittal Mar 25
Birds live to be free,
Don't catch them when they are in trees...
They are not supposed to be in cages,
And to be sold in wages;
We can't see their tearful cries,
Cause we force them to die;
They want free air,
In cages they live without their mother's care;
The symbol of peace is dove,
But we lock them in cages without any love...


                                                       ­       BHOOMI MITTAL.A
In today's world not only birds are caged but also humans are caged in their own thoughts . This poem brings out their condition
Kai Jan 31
Steel Bars; Iron Door; White Wall; Wooden Floor
   Every     Action    onDi     splay     Look          ing
   OutT      heWin    dowW   ishin      gICo          uld  
    Lea       ve;Dre     aming   ofEs      cape;        Ste
    elBa      rs;Iron      Lock     Whi       teWa         lls;
    I’veH     adEno      ugh;      INe       eedT         o
    Get        OutTh      isCa      ge;       ****      his
    Pris        onIsM      yHo       me;      andIf        ILea
    ve I have nowhere else that I could run to or to go
Silver ferns grow in a meadow of furiously bright flora,
Cosmos,
Freesia,
Roses of red and white,
Grow freely,
Wild below the pristine marble pedestal sitting center the clearing,
Within,
A,
Delicately wound cage calmly sits a equally small bird,
Breathing in the sweetness of the meadow,
Fluttering peacefully,
Their talons rest atop the door,
Of,
Its Gilded Cage.
The First installment of my "The Dove" Collection.
Constructive Feedback is always Appreciated and very much welcome.
My thoughts fail to keep in check
Are too shocking to share
I keep the madness hidden
Under layers of clothes I wear

Whether world approves or not
Of cares I will never know
Am better off with them tucked away
Secrets secured down below

I will not display my demons
The words they say
Keeping them confined
Where games they play

This is my cumbersome burden to bear
Belonging to me alone
Trying to corral
Out of line
Never staying in my comfort zone

To be insane
Greatest fear
Cage any chaos within
The weakest parts of me
To body I am living in
I try to suffer silently but it shows in the way I move and the way I talk and even in the way I breathe
Grey Nov 2020
Lost boys
Running down the streets
Cutting corners in their haste
To get away from life.
11/17/2020
Inspired by Lost Boy by Ruth B.
The parrot has 3 billion neurons in its brain
We have 86 billion
And most of mine are busy
forming unhelpful pathways
Misleading my good intentions.
Still, 3 billion neurons
seems like enough room for a few
unruly pathways


The parrot can repeat phrases
Which we thought to be
pretty cool
So we trapped him
and put him in a cage
And in our living rooms
Alone


The parrot knows how to survive happily
Within his world
Within his world, with 30 others of his kind
And a partner for life.
In his world
he would fly with his flock
To trees to pick fresh fruit
Now he perches on his own
And picks dry fruit out of a bowl.
In his world
he would prune his partners feathers
He would look after her
And she him
Now he perches on his own
And prunes his feathers
until there are none left.


Its an unhelpful neuro pathway, you see?
Some form of OCD?
Maybe its a way to cope?
Maybe its the brain spiralling
Trying to figure out what to do
Because it can't be a parrot anymore
It has to learn to be a toy
A talking point
And the parrot doesn't know how to be that
He only knows how to be a parrot
Birds belong in the wild, not in our homes.
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