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Poem

There is a bluebird in my soul, hidden away,
In a corner of my heart, where the light barely penetrates,
It knocks at the door of my heart, it wants to fly free,
But fear holds me back, and I keep it locked up, in my inner world.
Every day, when the world pressures me,
When the noises of life deafen my thoughts,
It tries to sing, to soothe my pains,
But I smother it with bitter memories and unshed tears.
In the late nights, when the moon watches over me,
When whiskey warms my body, but not my soul,
It whispers stories of love and hope,
But I drown it with cigarette smoke and burdensome memories.
There is a bluebird in my soul, fragile and pure,
Who wants to teach me to love, to hope, to dream,
But I, fearing the judgment of the world, keep it imprisoned,
In a cage of iron, in a dark corner of my heart.
Yet, in moments of solitude, when the world sleeps,
I let it fly, to spread its wings,
And for a moment, I feel freedom, I feel joy,
But then I put it back, fearing the day that will come.
There is a bluebird in my soul that does not die,
Even though I lock it up, even though I stifle it,
For each night, when all is calm,
It sings to me a melody, a melody of hope and love.
And even if the world never knows it,
Even if I keep it hidden forever,
I know that it is there, I know I am not alone,
For the bluebird in my soul is the real me.

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