I am but, another Parakeet

All these feathers meant to fly.
All of my brilliant colors...
All of my pretty songs...

None of which matters.

All that matters is the cage I've been placed in, and how many times my wings have been clipped.

I don't even remember how to fly.

She said it.
Now I believe it.

It's all good.
Sometimes, chains and locks just don't have a key !


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