Morning DewA crowded path,To many a dream,But under the season's wrath,These dreams burst at their seams.The path is laid out before me,The path I am fortold to follow,However I cannot see what I will be,So in my uncertainty I swallow.For I know I will have to change,Change how I see, how I feel, how I think,However it will all be quite strange,So in my confusion I blink.I turn to my friends I know,Hoping they will lend an ear,However they leave me in my woe,So in my isolation I hear.Many a thing I was appointed,Those across threw me an oar,However they will be disappointedSo in my dream I snore.From my dream I will wake,I knew
The Death of a Caged BirdI awoke this morning,With a drawn out metallic creak,What was missing was the "peck peck" of a beak.I suddenly realized,And quickly looked down,If I could, I would've frowned.At the bottom of me,Lay a once beautiful soul,To sleep every night I used to lull.Scared she was gone,Quickly, I began to quake,Hopping that, she would soon wake.But she did not,I felt an onslaught of depression,And I could only begin to question:Did she die of old age? Did she die of sudden fright?All I'll ever know is that she died in the night.Owner came in,And how she screamed!She never did worry for the poor little thing.The owner scowled
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