monica, here you go, a sad ending especially for you!hehe The bird grew up inside a cage, and fellow mates called from far away. Its no use pushing through iron bars, It'd hurt itself that way. It wished it'd roam the land free, Fly high up and dive deep down. Bite at flowers and leaves, and seeds unexpectedly sown. It wished it would write poetry, of the world, of seas and mountains. Trains of thoughts running in melancholic rhythms, The earth was free to croon. While it thought of the world and freedom, It knew they were all a lie. Though who knew what future had in store for it, for now, it was here, no earth, no sky.
Needless to mention, the bird is me. fellow mates are batchmates who moved forward while I remained, seeds sown are opportunities, that grow up into fruits of success. Rest all is evident I suppose.
good one.....! bird wathching, intrusting hobby thanks for writing ...but this ws some grey shade ...may be i will write some thing really dark...hmm...may be...
