Growth

• Lauen Ulmer, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2009

Caged birds mutter unspoken words
They wrestle around in a box.
Those feathers which seem so delicate and rare
Are quite tough despite Their thoughtless care.
Crawling along the ground
To be something they’re not
Dug into the earth
Left there to rot.
Spitting out dirt
Showing no signs of hurt,
The suffocating air
Helps them repair,
Limbs stretched out
Fearless and free

There is no one left but me.