Fragments of the Heart

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© DaniyahA

F R A G M E N T - 59

The Bird Cage

In a cage full of parrots,
I was sitting all alone,
listening to words
only parrots would know.

I tried to ignore the chirps,
but they kept getting louder,
the chatter I couldn't understand
because none of it mattered.

I didn't quite fit in,
because I wasn't as colorful,
for my plain, blue feathers
were simply less cultural.

With their startling voices,
the parrots would ridicule me,
for I wasn't part of
their pretty family tree.

Not one bird stood up for me,
for I was left listening to my thoughts,
soft, hurtful comments
that hurt like gunshots.

Then entered a fine bird,
confident feathers in red,
unlike my dull blue ones
for his were gorgeous— not dead.

He wasn't colorful,
but he wasn't made fun of,
for every aspect about him
any parrot would love.

What made him different than I,
for every bird accepted him;
what wrong was I doing
that made me shine dim?

I approached the red bird
because I needed answers,
and so I asked him how he
managed to reach parrot standards.

He deflated his feathers
and looked me in the eye,
'The secret is a shame:
I am not being myself" he sighed.