Bird in a gilded cage

I once met a bird,

A bird in a gilded cage.

She was as bright as the day,

Yet as lonely as the night.

Her voice could stop wars,

Her flight drew admiring stares.

Colored with the hues of the rainbow,

She reminded one the fresh rain.

But alas was her beauty enslaved,

For she knew not the air her kind did,

Nor was she familiar,

With the magic her wings could spin.

She lay ensconced in a jeweled jail,

While her kindred soared above her.

When her master came calling,

She would amuse him.

He, in return would gift her one of his riches.

She had perhaps everything she could want ,

In that cage of hers,

But for what she truly needed – freedom.

Every night, when the sun goes down,

And the stars come up,

One can hear her sweet laments,

Each tune, a strike to the guilty heart of her captor.

Her melancholic music told wondrous stories,

Of dreams and aspirations,

Of freedom and life.

She sang often ,

Of the cotton balls that adorned ,

The vast blue clearness above her,

And how she wished she were among them.

And in the mornings,

When she peeked through her grills,

She felt the dewy air damp on her feathers.

Every day the Earth called to her,

With her intoxicating smells,

Honeyed promises,

Myriad hues,

And peaceful tranquility.

Oh! How she wished she was in her mothers embrace!

But in all his misguided show of affections,

Not once did her master feel,

She deserved what she wanted the most,

Her heart-wrenching need,

Her freedom.