I read her like a fascinating book.
I look at her as a piece of intriguing art work.
I watch her in a black and white nostalgic movie.
I imagine how she would sound in all her shrinking presence.
Cruelly, you picked her out from the wild
With contempt you isolated her from her family
All for your selfish needs
You gratify from her beauty
You covet her freedom
You punish her for her silence
A songbird gave up her will to survive
Not for a pair of clipped wings
But for a dimming voice
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Flicker of Thoughts 