this middle
but not mild
excuses me to escape to the wild
for I'm only a child
field
free
rushing, charging
fowl
guns locked away
the child who runs is enough
to startle
to the river
fish over hither
rocks into the water
ripples of my laughter
what would I be without
Freedom?
Cooped with all the caged fowl?
no-- I desire to howl!
if this is me
where art thee?
tonight I will set thee free.
コメント