Captured at Last

        There once was a bird

                    Oh how young

                 So very beautiful

Its colorful wings

                 That seemed as if

               The rainbow above

              Was sitting among it

That little bird

Could never be captured

                      In books

                   Or pictures

                   In memory

                  Or thought

That was how free

That little bird was

               In its little self

                 Was strength

                          Speed

                And wittiness

Then one day

It came upon a abandoned tree

                    Oh how fortunate

                    Was that little tree

For that little bird

               Sat on it

            And surprisingly enough

That little bird

            Was captured

            In a little Prison

Called…

                        THOUGHT

 

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

The poem is very good. I like the flow of the story. The story was excellent. The freedom was lost with the appearance of thought. A outstanding poem.
Coyote