the caged bird sings for those who lock it away

desperate to please

even to please those who clipped his wings

wings that were built for his freedom

destroyed for the sacrificial madness of his captors

his pretty song is one of strangled mercy

what a shame, what a shame

they all mistake his cry for help

as another beautiful melody for biased ears

its bruises a metaphor for the sky it longs to call home

the struggle of its own morality heavier than the iron bars that guard it from the fate it deserves to fight for

sometimes the bird thinks the bars aren't real

just a mirage of its own secrets and pernicious promises 

all that it is has been broken 

left behind when he was taken 

like the illusory smoke that chases his master's cigarettes 

after a while, it gives up

for a caged bird can only sings so long before it becomes convinced that it deserves its cage

eventually it stops crying out

its life laid out like broken sea glass

or the shards of a bottle cast to the gutter

eventually the bird lost its battle with the very cloudsit longed to chase.