Just a short poem. If you aren't into this stuff, feel free not to read.
This caged bird,
He has no song to sing.
No 'tweet', or a 'chirp',
Just a bell to ring.
Each day, he stands
up on his swing
Always wishing
For his song to sing.
The birds that fly
Outside of his cage
Give him strength
Just everyday.
But when he dares
To give a 'tweet',
The cage bars sharpen,
To cut not-so-sweet.
When he dares
To give a 'chirp',
The cage will shrink,
With threats to hurt.
In silence, he licks
His tears that are sweet,
To remind himself that
He cannot tweet.
Each day and each night,
With a sad, achy heart,
He rings his small bell,
With no song to start.
