The Bird

A bird is in her cage with shining new silver bars,
At first she sang as she had not realised that she had been trapped,
A prisoner of her vows.
Now she has no voice, no house, no choice.
Her strong wings have been clipped-
And her wild ways tamed.
Her once bright eyes now are plain,
Cold and dead and empty she sits waiting,
In her lifeless cage.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s