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caged birds
How strange is it to be
anything at all?
How strange is it to be
a part so small
Like a dust speck screaming
I am everything
...But nothing at all.
Some see their king and
on their knees they fall.
Some live their lives
never asking for freedom at all.
For a bird humankind is a bunch of fools
Walking in and out the doors of their schools.
On a silver platter we were served freedom
but we chose to drown in the endless boredom.
How strange is it to think
Why do I live?
How strange to be sad and
pour another drink.
Birds never wonder, birds never think
Why do I live and why do I sink?
at times i wish i was a bird,
at times i wish i was a bird, the freedom of life with just fight or flight and gathering food would be wonderful. our freedoms are rapidly vanishing this is tough for me to grasp. i've been punk rock most my life so i will never bow to any king and always scream for freedom. it is strange to be "anything at all" and it's strange to think
"why do i live" i use to ask this question all the time. i'll ponder this question more now after reading this poem. your poems tend to make one think. you're a poet and i love your poems.
This message means a lot to
This message means a lot to me, thank you. I really like your poems, we seem to have a similar mindset. :)
Whispers of a birds song
Oh Kitten, if we only knew the meaning of the birds tune. We may just find, that little bird, is much like me and you ;)
I like this, I've always had somewhat of a fascination with birds. Especially birds of imagination. ©]
Yeah, birds are beautiful and
Yeah, birds are beautiful and interesting :) Thank you!