The cage door was open

The cage door was open,
but the bird didn’t fly –

too afraid of the outside world
and too dependent on the hand that fed,
it listened to the doubting voice that said
there’s no way that you’ll survive.

So it weighed up its chances,
and decided to stay put,
but then once the door was shut

it cursed itself for lack of nerve,
and sang a song of deep regret
long into the night.

This seed feeder is full of chaff,
there is neither millet spray nor grit,
this sandpaper hasn’t been changed for weeks,
this cage is dirty and full of shit.