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Why The Caged Bird Doesn'T Sing

The gold of the day
Passes the reins of time
To the blue of the night.
Outside the prison
A spider
Swings among the ropes of free will.
Aviary - a nursery
Where flight is frozen and songs turn mute.
The frontiers of wasted hours
Roll down;
Another day gone.

The vocal chords
Get weaker day by day.
Layers of dust
Pile on the wings.
The bird comes to terms
With its wasted faculty.

Is vandalized to mere dust.

by Sunil D'pudi

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