Freedom
Oh yeah! You guessed it! ANOTHER depressing poem from Janie! Why do I write depressing poetry when I consider myself a pretty happy person? I do not know. It just happens.
I was free as a bird,
A bird without wings.
A canary that sits in its cage and sings.
Forced to be cheerful and happy and gay,
When on the inside I'd been crying all day.
Walled in by houses, cheerless and dank
On a slimy old street with gutters that stank.
Cooped up all day, not a glimpse of the sky
While the grey hours so slowly crawled by.
I longed for the grasses, I longed for the wind,
If that was called freedom, may my path always bend
Toward slavery.
I was free as a bird,
A bird without wings.
A canary that sits in its cage and sings.
Forced to be cheerful and happy and gay,
When on the inside I'd been crying all day.
Walled in by houses, cheerless and dank
On a slimy old street with gutters that stank.
Cooped up all day, not a glimpse of the sky
While the grey hours so slowly crawled by.
I longed for the grasses, I longed for the wind,
If that was called freedom, may my path always bend
Toward slavery.
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