In a Cage
On the exhausted ends of a day
you pick over a life that seems
to be just passing time
or doing things it rather not do.
Even when granted moments
to fly your freedom, you sit
with folded wings, those same
wings that once flew on the lift
of your dreams.
Now you just hop around
at the bottom of a cage
hung inside your head.
And when I call to you
to step out and take to air,
you curl up and hide from sight,
bound up in your cramped soul,
afraid, only a few feathers away
from losing the power of flight.
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