Let the Little Bird Fly
She was kept in a cage on a pedestal high
for the greater part of her life.
She would oftentimes sing and perform on command
though it cut her heart like a knife.
A beauty she was and all who did see
said her charms description defied.
Yet, no one could know though her song was so strong,
how deep in her soul that she cried.
But now she is free, and flies like the bird,
that was always meant to be free.
And the songs that she sings are so precious, you see,
for she sings them only for me.
Watch the little bird fly. Hear the little bird sing.
She knows the old bridges have burned.
Yes, she was set free, it was needed, you see,
to determine if she would return.
Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2012
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