The Bird of Pain

I have finally caught the bird
I put it away in a cage,
A cage that is crimson red
So I may never forget it’s there.

I have caught the bird
But I won’t allow myself to play with it.
If I take it out of the change to play, would it fly away?

I have caught the bird torturing the both of us. 
I won’t let myself paly with it and I won’t let it free.

I have caught the bird, but I have not chosen what I shall do with it.
Paining the both of us.
The bird could try to be free, but it’s under a trance.

I opened the cage.
Done with “what ifs”
The bird flew away

I am now left with this cage reminding me of what is not.
Realizing that I needed the bird more than it needed me.
But I can now say that I have no longer caught the bird of pain
The bird is not the only thing that was set free but my pain was as well. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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