Caged birds sing broken records with strained vocal chords,
Hoping someone tunes in
Even though their strings need tuning.
A cacophony of unsynchronized notes, greet the dark matter…
Sound waves.
Their voices get drowned out by time, but
Their lyrics still flow,
Still current.
Etched into the background noise like audible graffiti,
Their art becomes the sound of the needy,
Protesting the desires of the greedy.
Caged birds can not spread their wings, so
They let their words fly and their messages travel for them…
This is the song the caged bird sings,
Though heard by many, it’s understood by few:
“True freedom is within, for universe lives in you.”
Forever Thugnacious 