The chirps of the birds in the spring remind me of what I miss the most.
Your voice.
The fluttering of wings reminds me of what I love most.
Your arms around my body.
The bird in me wants to fly itself around you.
Chirping, singing, tweeting.
The bird in me willingly clips its wings.
It becomes your pet.
It locks itself in a cage for you.
But you stopped paying attention to my chirps.
After a while, I longed to fly with the others.
I saw them fluttering about on nonsensical business.
The bird in me, all it wants to do is lift its wings.
Preen, show the blue and brown colours off.
The bird in me is caged.
The bird in me is dead.
The bird in me.
YOU ARE READING
Butterflies
PoesiaA book of poems/songs I've written. WRITTEN BY: SARA ELLIS COVER BY: SARA ELLIS PHOTO CREDITS: UNKNOWN MODEL: UNKNOWN ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPYWRIGHT.
