Feathers and Thumbs


United States
27° 56' 50.7912" N, 97° 12' 2.0916" W

I had a canary once
Every morning it would sing
It was the most precious thing
I cherished it for months

Little and sweet, with feathers bright gold
And as valuable as the stars
It, like me, was kept prisoner behind bars
Still, chirped in hope, it sang so bold

But, indoors she would never again see the light of day
Nor would she find love and bear young
She knew this, and was emotionally wrung
Locked up, alone, is how she would stay

The bird lost hope and could take no more
She fell ill without purpose and liberty
So she silenced her self and song for eternity
I loved that little bird with all I had… what am I waiting for?


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