But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are
tied so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the
sighing trees and the fat worms
waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and
he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the
grave of dreams his shadow shouts
on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are
tied so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
Written by Maya Angelou (1928-2014)
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