I could have said to look up at the stars,
instead of saying that the sun had set.
Maybe then I would have woken like a lion,
rather than a fledging bird with clipped wings.
But if I’d not spoken honestly,
and let go of hands that did not hold me too,
that lion would have grown old and tired
and slowly withered away beneath the weight of a weary world.
For this fledging bird will learn to fly,
wings growing stronger with passing days.
But for now my heart is tired
and freedom is a cage.
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