By Antara Chhabra
The barred cage casts a shadow,
A non-chirping being walks slow.
In enclosed space, attempting to flutter,
A silent plea it dares to utter.
Listen closely to hear,
Its freedom is far from near.
Wild lies in the black heart,
But they are forever apart.
All the food is eyed with distaste,
When will mis be removed from misplaced?
Laying perched on hard, cold surface,
Going around in circles is an endless chase.
Staring at anthropoids is a fall from grace,
Cannot look at another unlike face.
Painfully awaiting death,
With each heavy breath.
Alas, its calls are attended to,
In not this, but to another world the bird flew.