Bird's Song.

My chest is
full of caged birds they
can not sing.

Fluttering
their clipped wings

against the scar-ridges

of my
broken ribs.

Scratching their

scribbled lines

on lungs
full to bursting.

Cursing the
words
coming

crushing from
raw throats.

Dying from
trying to
sing
thirsting

to scream

this endless stream,

of want.

Flaunting
their rage,
beating bent wings

against
the bars of
our cage.

Taunting me

and

calling our
cawing Poetry.