Story Of Every Caged Bird

I am sitting in an iron cage My wings have been clipped Some are adoring my beauty But, some are making fun of my caged stage They take pride how they have Captured the flying bird And how precious their possession is How they can break a wing and reduce me to nothing. I sit with sorrow, cut off from my companions Who still roam freely across the sky. I do not sing my fond song Whenever I open my tongue Only a shrill and a high pitched cry Resounds in this closed space. My owner sometimes take pity Tries to pacify me with Delicious fruits But I yearn for my home in a tree trunk. I yearn for the jungle Where green trees sing with me I yearn for my close mates Who may be mourning still For losing me in this iron cage. @ Bharati Nayak