A Dreaming Bird in Caged
A Dreaming Bird in Caged
By: Adam M. Snow
My eyes be blind to thee,
My heart cold like a December morn.
Could condescension be,
A merit of a scorn?
My ethereal pain scourge my heart,
Thoughts of you lost in pass
You beckon my soul from the start,
I might obey, but not surpass.
If I may live not a bird in caged,
Who sings to please but dreams to be free.
My every moments aged,
And I still blind to see,
I'm not myself,
Just a bird on your shelf.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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