Jail Bird

I am like a little bird, that likes to sit on its swing. Every now and then I jump down to get a drink or maybe to eat. I look at the cage that surrounds me, the bars are like fingers, clawing down on me so I can't be free. It's just enough space to stretch my wings, sometimes they put me next to a window, and I can feel the rays of the sun, it's like gold to me. I can see the other birds fly care free with the wind; playing with their bird friends. When the dark clouds and rain comes, I find myself wondering. "where have they gone?" I sometimes catch myself wishing I could fly with the others, play in the sun, but when the rain comes, where will I run? Can someone open my cage? I promise not to go too far, I just want to feel the sun on my back, and the wind blowing against my feathers. Even if I fly in a circle, let me have a taste of that freedom. I won't even whistle while I fly, because I know it's just temporary. I know I will eventually have to come back; and sit on my swing. And every now and then, I jump down to get something to drink or maybe to eat. That same little bird I'll be; dreaming to be free, one day...just maybe.