Yes, Hope Is A Thing With Feathers

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(Encapsulated) in a minimal dome

Her puny wings try to wade around the sticky and reeking liquid

Itching to know how the wind feels on her feathers,

Wanting to taste the ambiance of

Independence

and

FREEDOM,

In an open

S P A C E

Away from the dullness of the world she has known

To the paradise she wanted badly to savor.

Then there goes a crack! Finally!

She beams as her beak destroys the covering

There, there, it has been demolished

But the sight of the iron bars kills the bird’s bliss.

She tries to force a smile without the water works.

“Trapped but no longer that constricted,” she says.

Written By Rosanen Soberano

Bio: just another Sylvia Plath who is afraid of submerging in moving water

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