"Little bird" you called me.
Give me the key to your castle,
I will make you a queen,
And I'm a foul of good taste,
I slip you the key
and watch you carry my cage
Across the wastelands and the tundras through the meadows and the creek side
along the beach and
finally back where we started
I tell you
I miss the sky
and all of the stars in it
but you dangle my key and claim me
Tell me that you saved me made me royalty
But these clipped wings are
the chopping block
And your pitiful smile is my executioner
Do I wait for the knife to drop?
Do I try to soar with broken feathers?
"Let me fly, my darling "
I beg you I plead,
"I am not meant to be caged like this and though I love you dearly"
My freedom can't be contained by empty words and iron bars."
You feel slighted then, betrayed
but you slip me my ticket
And leave me to my decisions
I am fouled good taste
So I creek open the rusted cages door,
And shakily flap towards the sun."
YOU ARE READING
The Scorpio
PoetryThis book is quite personal for me. It is a memoir of all my poetry. I have been saving for years, waiting on the right time to make this wonderful creation created from my heartache and tears from my soul.
