Traumatized birds of ours, we promised to protect them,
We promised freedom but all we offered was a fancy cage,
Figured we needed a collection just so that we could rate them,
So they went from our one and only to one in a million,
Just some Beautiful words used to keep them captive,
As long as they are fed we don't see how we are captors,
Show them off to the world and ain't seen what our pride did,
Or see how their hearts bleed,
Longing for eyes that once saw their beauty in the skies,
Get a bigger cage, that ain't love that's just guilt in disguise,
They rattle the cage, we call them crazy and irrational,
Call them Selfish for not sharing their confinement,
We like " this lack of freedom should be rationed",
Woe is me, teach me how to fly little bird.
Forgive me, for my fear of heights I don't let you fly
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem