Do you really have to leave

So soon? Little larks and loons…

Wings beating on a window

But unable to break the glass,

Unable to see the stars

Except through locks

And bars.

Unable to fly high when all they want

Is to cry; cry out for someone

To love them.

 

Crying all alone, in a room

Blank and White

No light and no fight

Left to use. To think

Of the one they love

Trapped behind glass,

Hearts under key and lock

Beating like a clock

Tick. Tick. Tock.

Waiting for the stars

And that glimpse

Through iron bars…

Farewell little larks and loons

May they free you soon.