Little bird

In the ebullience of childhood I stole a fledgling from its nest
Fed it from my plate and held it close to my breast
Gave it my favorite dainties, ice cream and cherry pie
Nothing it did eat, I didn’t know why
A small bundle of feathers that I held dear
Out of fear I clipped its wings to keep it near
Without its own kind it did not sing
Caged, now dependent on what I bring
Once captured by youth’s selfish crime
Now held enslaved by chains of time