#sexslavery
Every child broken into a crayon box colours the same.
Jimmy and Bill would know.
The Knight time radio.
Their Daytime TV.
Technology gave us colour in our boxes for entertainment
And Two turn tables to scratch out the screaming.
55 inches in HD wasn't big enough to scribble on
Perfect reception but no one listened to the colours snap.
No one bothered to question why the paper is off the crayon.
I think of all those lost crayolas
being used for shadowing.
A cover inside a cover,
where pages should be in a book.
And here we are,
still drawing in black and white.
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
**Of what purpose are wings to a caged bird?
Of what use is the light of dawn when her voice is hardly heard
and albeit sweet, alone she can't make the dawn a chorus?
of what use are her claws without moist and wormy soils to scratch
what's the point of waking early with no worms to catch?
of what use are her eyes when she can't watch
the big blue sky, of what use are thick canopies where she won't nest?
why does she sing? Is it a melody, is it a dirge?
Does she need a cage mate with whom she's forced to merge
while her bone and blood mate wanders somewhere in search
of the one who left him before their first eggs could hatch?
Of what help is, to a caged bird, a friend?
Is it just to share the agony that won't end
or help hurtfully peck the little bars that won't bend?
To a caged bird of what purpose are feathers,
one that suffers a cold heart courtesy of iron tethers?
why should she be warm when she misses comfort of her home
the comfort of intricately weaved grass and loving family
the warmth radiated when living with her own species happily?
Does a caged bird need loyalty when there are bars to enforce,
those charmingly curved to ensure her freedom's loss?
Tell me...
Of what purpose are wings to a caged bird?**
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 2:21 PM UTC