• The bars keep everyone out,
    and locks me in.
    It is always lonely here,
    no one to see or hear.
    I wait alone,
    for what? I don't know.
    I try to fly up,
    but my head bangs on the ceiling.
    When I am sad,
    I cannot cry.
    I now know death is near,
    my wings are weak,
    my beak is numb.
    I lie down in my nest,
    and stay there,
    for my last hour to be done.