Little budgies can be soft and sweet like cotton candy
Or loud and annoying, like a megaphone stolen by toddlers
Their beaks are little knives, pricking my skin
And wings are sheets of paper, fluttering in the wind
A caged bird is a prisoner in a dark, empty cell
Clipped wings, like weights, holding them down
Flying, to them, is walking through a field of wildflowers
It is happiness, it is joy
But when they try, they fall
And they realize
Flying is pain, flying is suffering
Flying is impossible
I made these poems. I like poetry a lot, so I'll be posting more poems I write on this thread.
Or loud and annoying, like a megaphone stolen by toddlers
Their beaks are little knives, pricking my skin
And wings are sheets of paper, fluttering in the wind
A caged bird is a prisoner in a dark, empty cell
Clipped wings, like weights, holding them down
Flying, to them, is walking through a field of wildflowers
It is happiness, it is joy
But when they try, they fall
And they realize
Flying is pain, flying is suffering
Flying is impossible
I made these poems. I like poetry a lot, so I'll be posting more poems I write on this thread.
