The Wife

Her wings are sublime, fluttering about, From blue to an indigo plum, Filling her world with a delicate shade, Filling the void with her hum, Then she lands on her perch, her small wooden perch, She sits with an unblinking gaze, And looks to the world that she could’ve loved, To the forests and beaches and waves, But her mirror tells the story to her every day, Her mirror shows the maid she became, With the cage in her head jailing this bird, Imprisoning her will and her name, And nobody knows she’s a beautiful bird, Locked up for the rest of her life, To everyone she’s the tame predictable one, The mother, the maid, she’s the wife. Written for Silent Ones contest "One last tear". Written and published on 4th February 2019. Ranked 2nd