A little song bird chirps to her master's afternoon tea,
wanting to be be delightful,
she flutters about in circles,
and flaunts her colors as she sings.
Dressed in pink and ivory,
she believes her beauty will give her love.
A cage prevents her from flight,
but with a wink from her master,
she embraces her limited space.
Often, she looks out the window to the filth of the London streets,
seeing the sparrows, crows, and swallows,
she shuffles and prunes her feathers,
basking in her master's privileged comforts.
And yet she envies them,
For their freedom of cage-less flights.
They gaze through her window
With confused expressions
Wondering what keeps her there
In the prison,
In the state of mind
That goes against her very nature.
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