Listen to poem:
The Bird of Freedom
THE BIRD OF FREEDOM
THE BIRD OF FREEDOM
There are those who are so selfish wanting to keep me all to themselves
Forever keeping me hidden; between, their own unreadable bookshelves
Never really knowing, that they were destroying the very thing they love
Force me from a bird of beauty, to no more than an unwanted rock dove
Come home only to open all the pages, and then read of their own abuse
To satisfy their own sadden inner insecurities until I no longer have a use
No longer able to fulfill your selfish unrestrained unwanted unbridled lust
Abandoned and forgotten the pages slowly crumbled; they turn into dust
Dustpan and brush in hand, you then cast me to the open carrying winds
Not really knowing it is the bird of freedom that in the very end who wins
Indiana Shaw . . .
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
