When you were growing in the womb,
it provided you so little room.
After being born you were put in a
crib;
a jail with bars, life was glib.
Once crawling, they put you in a
pen;
new scenery, but a jail again.
Outside, they enclosed you in a
fence;
life’s been pickets ever since:
Closed in by the walls of your home;
in your car wherever you roam;
toilet stalls and the cubicles at
work;
everywhere eyes on you lurk.
When asking space for room to grow;
the answer usually had been no.
A caged bird denied use of its
wings;
clueless of life’s better things.
A prisoner to the pickets others
erect;
and your own, one may suspect.
If ready to experience a life that’s
free,
remove those pickets 1…2…3!
Physical pickets are easier to
cast off;
those of the mind, more troublesome.
Free the mind and the rest will
follow;
sweeter pills are yours to swallow.
Live for pleasure and to be a
pleasure;
doing so is life’s greatest treasure.
Off, now! Partake of bolder, wilder
things!
Fly, little bird, on guiltless
wings.
~gj duerrschmidt
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