The Bird In The Golden Cage

as i watch the bluebird
inside its golden cage i am somehow
carried by mysterious
pity

you hear it sing a very sad song
you hear it making a plea that you open the lock of its door
so it can fly away

touched i opened it so it may use its wings
but then this is the sadder part
it has come back
asking for grains inside my hands

now it is making another plea
to open the door of the cage so she can sleep back
soundly than it used to
before

ahh, look what habits are formed
by the prisons of our lives

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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