The Bird in the Basement

Rummaging past the artifacts

Hidden within the chests

Air looms and pearling blooms

And elementary tests

In the basement it was serene

As I stood by myself

Admiring The Sun's dusty dream

And accumulation on history's shelf

Yet my journey was interrupted

A noise, perhaps a call

Rattled between the oak boards

And danced off the rugged walls

What creature produced such a sound?

A chirping,

Churning my gears

And trespassing my ears

And spun my head around?

A little bird,

Singing for me

Trapped in the basement

Perhaps, waiting to be free

A little bird,

Who could barely see

Trapped in the basement

But not planning to flee

Little bird,

How long have you dwelled here?

Comfortable with the shame,

Beak in our past

Or forever stationary in fear?

Little bird your decisions, so stark

Leave this warehouse

Leave the basement

And find comfort at the park

Refreshing winds

Whirl the patient fans

Removing the rust of 13 years

Knowing that this is your land

Don’t worry about me

Sing for them

And seduce them with your charm

Home is calling

Stretch your wings

And we’re frolic in the east

As the fruits ripen on the farm







Can you guess what this is a metaphor to?