are the Songs that are sung to the stale air
by a bird that is caged from flying.
with the raping anger of hungry oppression calling,
Calling the hair sprayed Robin to sit in its cage, chained.
Are Words that are spoken.
These spoken words damply leading,
trapping the fearful meanings of their sounds.
Those deliberate intentions translated within words.
are Mysteries of the province written within a book.
A Dictionary of forgotten lore having been solved.
Puzzlement's killed by acknowledgement.
Are the Tears, Rained.
Rained from the sky to a plastic chalice,
eye dripped tears enticed to sit within
the prison of a cup.
Are Friends of dust holding pervaded minds,
These digitally accomplished self contained
closed off to the music of life,
their harmonies given to the Critics.
all are but,
Casts set upon a winged bird
All are trapped like a painted picture
set to a frame.