The Blind Bird in the Cage


I look upon the blind bird in the cage
With milky centers of what were once obsidian eyes
Gazing out into an infinite blackness
I stare at the blind bird in the cage
With talons bent and broken in a tangled mess
Reaching tirelessly for its perch
I watch the bind bird in the cage
With brittle wings once strong and smooth
Leaping for an open door
I fear for the blind bird in the cage
With feathers faded from the flow of years
Leaping the wrong way

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