The Bird

In a cold boring room
in a cage you can't see
sits a bird all alone
that longs to be free

It looks at the bars
this prison it fears
they're gilded and gold
the bird cries silver tears

In this cage there is nothing
to give comfort and care
it sits alone in the cold
the gold cage is bare

Look at this cage
this cage you can't see
but see the poor bird?
That poor bird is me.


by Monique Julien

©Copyright 1999, All rights reserved