Let Her Go

When I turned five by age, my father gifted a bird in cage

All exalted by beauty of bird, the real grief was never heard

I tried to talk, to feed, to play, all night and day

In cage she would lie as if it was better to die

Saw a herd in the sky, realized she too wanted to fly

Ran all down to the floor, just to open her door

 The hope turned into freedom, and wings set for the mile

She perched on my shoulder, her chirpings met with my smile

The moment felt so divine, was it her freedom or mine

Do we need to part, for our love to grow?

Should I hold her hand or let her go?

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