The Cage
The Cage
Upon the trees, I built my cage, oblivious.
Invisible bars forged with hollow expectations
and the echo of my doubts,
a sly structure of limits
that I thought would lift me into the blues.
In a trance, I followed the rules I wrote in silence,
the demands I carved into my skin,
thinking they’d propel me toward the vast expanse-
that by obeying them,
I would finally rise, wings unfurling in the wind,
like the others.
I envied their graceful ascension,
blind to the unpredictable sky tempests
they had wrestled through below.
And I remained in my guarded little world where
I found myself convinced
that I will never fly above the clouds,
that I would always fall,
that I was wingless.
But then, it struck me-
it was no illusion.
I kept arriving at nowhere,
and something in me shifted.
Opening my eyes, the bars became clear,
not as part of the world, but as part of me-
something I was dragging around.
And I began to see the foolish fractures in this prison.
They'd been there all along-
whispers of freedom I’d ignored.
The skies had always called to me,
A place for all who dared to soar,
a deep horizon where wings could stretch and catch the wind.
Yet I clung to what I assumed was the safety
of this suffocating cage.
Now I see it- the truth in those cracks.
The wings I had all along folded in fear.
So, I tore through the cage, leaping into infinite,
beating my wings as much as I could.
Copyright © sam ast | Year Posted 2025
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