The Vulture Takes What It Wants

Once she was a caged bird,

wing-clipped without a whim,

but now she flies with her flock.

Sing loud, sing sweet little canary;

her voice goes unheard.

When she was a caged bird.

The vulture looms beyond the window,

concealing it like a coffin’s door.

She wished to fly with her flock.

She sees from between his tar-black feathers,

yonder her friends flapped and fluttered.

Woe is she, a caged bird.

He kept her sweet song to himself,

years passed and then… so did he.

She will fly among her flock.

At long last she flew for the first time,

leaving that dark-feathered warden behind.

Once she was a caged bird,

but now she flies with her flock.

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