The Caged Bird

0 0 0
                                    

It looks pretty, doesn't it?
In a golden cage resides the bird you adore the most,
Surrounded by your love and all it needs,
Yet its heart craves the touch of the blue sky,
The sun painting its feathers with hues as it soars high,
Dancing among the clouds,
It longs for the forbidden freedom
You admire its beauty, assuming contentment,
While silently it withers away within your confines,
Intriguing how you keep it under your control,
A prized possession, a pet you claim to care for,
Yet its true freedom remains restrained,
And invisible are the tears it sheds and its pleas.

Acknowledge the cage isn't real,
An invisible barrier of your love,
Shedding tears as you take its away,
With each tear another weight is placed,
In your golden cage it is trapped,
You laugh, you smile as it withers,
Loving the power of control you possess,
No remorse for the suffering inflicted on its soul,
Blinded by your own happiness,
While it feels guilty for having emotions,
Feeling foolish for being mean at times,
You don't seem to realise how it's trapped in its own lies.

Lying to make it better,
But every lie weighs heavily on its wings,
Its soul tainted by the lies it weaves,
Even if it breaks free from the illusion of your love,
Even if it returns to the sky it yearns for,
The hold of your tears will forever linger,
Your golden cage, it will never be able to escape,
The weight of your love is the price it'll pay,
The bird is not pretty anymore, you have made it petty.

: ̗̀➛ Poetry: A JourneyWhere stories live. Discover now