The Aviary

The birds in the aviary
Are born into slavery
They can see and feel the wind and sky
But can never fully spread their wings...

They can never truely fly

They can see the stars at night
But pay them no thought as they squabble and fight

Making enemies with one another

When they could be side by side
As sisters and brothers

These creatures are bound by rules
Some accept their fate
Some are even happy
No need to hunt for food
Most birds in the aviary
Have no desire for true freedom...

These birds are surely fools

The ones deemed crazy break their wings trying to escape from the cage, with their eyes wild and crazed

It's as if they've been awake for days, having self medicated with the money they're paid...

It's as if these birds are on the minimum wage

The magpies are happy with homes to break
The vultures are happy with bones to pick
Together with the crows they patiently wait untill time to takes its toll on the old and the sick (just like the government) 

The eagle sits high with his puffed out chest
Delusions of grandeur...
But he's kidding no one 
He's just like the rest

The budgie's oblivious to the other birds lives, they could be in distress with their plumage in tatters...

To the budgie, its own reflection is all that matters

The greasy starlings could be forgiven for being thought of as dumb

But they're at the bottom of the pecking order...
They're too preoccupied fighting for the crumbs

They all listen to the parot...you see
They listen in the same way as humans 
To the ones in power 
On the radio and TV

Their senses numbed. Institutionalised

They don't know how to be free....

Another chickling hatches in the nest

It's first taste of freedom is actually the taste of captivity

Welcomed by its mother with warm wings
To life in the aviary