Singing a sweet melody At daybreak, with ecstasy, To catch the early worm The free bird soars the sky lissome. Then to quickly check Her gleeful young egg Perching, takes a flavourful peck Of the juicy sun soaked fruit speck. The caged bird, watching The glorious sun rising, Rages she can never dip her wing In the azure bathed in orange tinge And with a wing so wet Paint her whole world scarlet. She cannot fly, she cannot perch On the topmost branch of the bountiful birch. Pacing up and down her narrow cage She cannot but show her rage. Pecking at the heartless grill She opens her throat to trill. But soon ceases, dejected Knowing she’s got check-mated. Next morning she yet again trills She hopes for the free sky still Imagines of endless good out farther Standing inside her own sepulchre.