It is a good life I think and sigh
For what's freedom when nigh and high
Dawn to dusk, this search for seed or fly
Those wings were not clipped on the sly
Dreams and wings feed neither you nor I
But trapped birds need not fly
And those dreams of blue sky
They bade a gleeful goodbye
When dark storms pour out heaven's eye
I wonder if freedom is all about the why
Of a choice freed or made to die
But, trapped birds, they needn't chose
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