last poem for awhile, methinks

simple.  its one of those things i dont expect anyone to really understand... 

Cagebird:

Just like a bird in a cage

crying tears in a rage.

Pure enough to cut glass

i wish, but alas,

they're probably more like acid rain.

And as i look at the trees that are men,

who never ask on their knees and are then,

quick to make war or appease where they can-

I think to myself

what uncomfortable wealth

I'd be sure to receive from the Breeze...

If I'd only live life on my knees.

I almost despise it for being nursery rhyme like. almost.