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Song Bird

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It is a lovely cage, is it not?
Brimming with beautiful colors
Lavish and wonderful things.
Each morning you feed me well,
And I sing my song for you,
trying so hard to please.

Once I spied another keeper.
Just once.
He carried no cage
But rather a pedestal, draped with subdued oranges and blues
A lovely, wonderful place for a bird to perch.
And fly away from.

Should I have such a home, I would not leave.
Always, I would return to serenade my gentle keeper,
Holding no lock or key.

But the bars are so familiar and comforting.
At times.
Aren't they?
Could I possibly leave?





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