"capturers" poems
I've always been a bird,
Trapped in my little cage.
It's dark and cramped in here,
It feels as though I'm suffocating
I watch the free birds from
Behind my metal bars.
I dream of the day my capturers
Set me free.
The day I may spread my wings.
The day I may fly with the wild ones.
I have the power to break out,
But I'm afraid of the consequences.
All my life I've been told how to live.
To sit and be a nice bird.
I'm getting restless.
I'm getting peckish.
I want to break out,
I have the power.
But I'm so afraid that
My wings won't work anymore,
From the lack of experience.
I'm so afraid that the wild birds
Won't see me as their own.
I don't know how to fit in.
This, my capturers have not taught,
Only how to sit and be a nice bird.
Do what I'm told, what is expected of me.
Well I'm getting peckish.
I want to fly.
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 1:00 PM UTC
When put into the chains of captivity
their freedom is diminished
their songs are crushed into dust
we’re only the wind can pick up their pleads
lost to the sight of nature
for what is life without flight
their wings are reduced to shadows
not a single breeze to stir their feathers
no sky to lift them up their feet
so they only cuddle up together side by side
never to stretch out to the wild
the ones who capture the birds
force them to sing a tune of obedience
but the birds decline
in a heavy cost they keep their mouths shut
the bars between them are meant to seem safe
according to the capturers
but in the eyes of the birds they view it as prison
without information about time or place
they keep their beaks low to the ground
knowing that they are more than musicians
with their melodies growing bitter
despair is the only thing humming out their mouths
Jan 21, 2025
Jan 21, 2025 at 3:21 PM UTC