A Caged Sparrow


A caged sparrow rests upon a silvery cord
Little brown feathers and golden eyes
Surrounded by the wires of a lovely cell
A prison, much like an opera stage

The song is sung, such a happy tune
To ears that hear but do not listen
The bird sings from a heart unknown to the sky
Words that are strangers to the feeling of flight

Light does shine through the thin metal bars
As if to touch the dreams of a captive artist
A writer of songs, using not ink and quill
But the essence of a wish and distant memory

So the sparrow remains just as it was
The feathered prisoner, the singer of a morning’s hope
Until the red curtains fall with the coming of night
Plunging the little cage into the silent finale

Darkness brings not pleasant sleep
Instead there bleeds a thousand reminders
Of the sky that awaits past the confines of a cage
The moon, the stars, the clouds, and the rain

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