A Dreaming Bird in Caged
By: Adam M. Snow
My eyes be blind to thee,
My heart cold like a December morn.
Could condescension be,
A merit of a scorn?
My ethereal pain scourge my heart,
Thoughts of you lost in pass
You beckon my soul from the start,
I might obey, but not surpass.
If I may live not a bird in caged,
Who sings to please but dreams to be free.
My every moments aged,
And I still blind to see,
I'm not myself,
Just a bird on your shelf.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In one way or another we are all caged and yet without the confines of an organised society we'd fail as we all rely so closely on each other for our creature comforts..... I don't think this is exactly what your poem is about but it brought these thoughts of mine to mind.....