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Poetry

Sometimes, I feel like the bird that's caged, with those wings that aren't free to fly.

Endless streets

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by AvikaJain6

by AvikaJain6

My home is lost,

I can't feel my skin

My throat is soar

My bones feel loose

And my wings weak.

I am stuck inside some four walls

They call it home

But my home were the endless streets

I feel homeless inside.

They want me to

Know it as a home

No, they don't torture me

They serve me good food

But I feel it's a cage

I feel unfree and squished.

They so love it

But my home were the open skies

I feel homeless inside.