You live in my head,
constantly.
Even with cobwebs and dust.
Can you tell?
You built cozy little nests,
by warm crackling fires,
that try to lull you.
Can you tell?
You chirp and whistle,
most melodiously,
when I need music.
Can you tell?
You gently peck
at the rotten corners
to feed the fire.
ah, the sweet agony!
Can you tell?
I caged ,
a gentle soul
with pretexts of fondness.
Should I let go?
I hold on
strangely attached ,
obsessed almost,
to an idea.
Should I let go?
I confine this
purity and naivete'
for my greed.
Should I let go?
I grabbed
the delicate feathers,
to prune them.
Unnecessary!
Should I let go?
The cognizance
I cannot restrain you,
That you live
of your free will,
In my head,
Indeed Joyous!
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