All people are people –
Some people are birds.
Soaring, shining bright and vociferous.
Despising captivity, cages and stillness
And leading you higher, from routine and weariness,
TO THE SKY.
They live open-wounded and hurting inside.
So subtle, they tear just like strings sometimes.
So breathless, they wheeze, but don’t ask for mercy
When autumn comes creeping, exhausting and dirty.
They dream of a soulmate and yet stay alone.
In loneliness smouldering days come and go
IN THE SKY
If you try to lock a bird in a cage,
Expecting for getting a brood-hen’s in vain.
Perhaps, mother bird will give birth to a nestling,
But rather her life will have got tragic endings.
THE SKY
If you try to stop your poor captive bird
From flying to make the bird wingless and trivial,
The land won’t replace this bird heavenly peace.
PEACE
What do you need Heaven for?
You’re not like this.