Songbird

Songbird

So near but yet so far
You flit from flower to thorn

Painting the numbers just so
Of your pre-made story
Done so prettily in surplus,
You can’t escape.

Always busy,
Always there but not
Quite connected.

Yellow ribbons dancing on the branches
For you alone
As the links of crimson silk
Holding you up from harm that is you.

Always running,
Running...
But going nowhere
As the silk chain bind you tight

Impossible to breathe...

May I set you free?
Of these gilded walls forever;
My pretty little Songbird.