(Caged Bird) I Sing For Hope

I watch the world speed by from my perch inside this cage

The Sun rises and falls from the sky and the moon sings it lullaby to the stars

Still I sing.

I watched the seasons come and go and my wings grow stiff without freedom to sore through the changing air.

Still I sing.

I watch the ones grow to adults and form nests of their own, knowing that will never be me. I am destined for the metal home that I am enslaved to.

Yet I still sing.

I grow weak now, my old age a thief of my energy but not of my hope.

For that I still sing.

A young little bird visited my window today and asked how I could sing of such beautiful things locked away from the sky and the trees in such a cruel way.

I responded simply in the most honest and truthful way.

I sing for the trees the grow through the night, I sing for the flowers that curl up at night.

I sing for the animals the run in fear; I sing for all the cries that no one hears.

I sing for the little girl who feels all alone, I sing for the mothers whose son fights in the war and hasn’t come home.

I sing for the old man with no place to call his own, I sing for the woman whose husband hung up the phone.

I sing for the baby lying mistreated in her crib, whose parents can’t put down the needle long enough to see what they are doing is not only harmful but lethal

I sing for the daughter who ran away from her pain, the one whose demons could not be slain so she turned instead to cocaine.

I sing for the day I will feel the freedom on my wings perhaps not in this lifetime but maybe another we will see what death brings.

Hope

That is what I sing for and so should you. A hope that one day you can start over, and have a try at something new.