Poet

Paradise for Parakeets

We fly in parallel lines.

Not even having to think; we soar among the clouds.

But that's only a dream.

We sit in cages like paratroops, never to drop from the ship.

Freedom is only a paradox, yet we continue to yearn for it,

as we watch victorious creatures parade out the door in the hands of a giant.

No one wants a parakeet anymore.

"Polly want a cracker?"

We could sing a story of why we say no.

Let this be a warning to you;

Paradise for parakeets is one flap away.

But we are forced to stay, trapped by our own despair.

~ Viola ( -GangsterSangster- )