English Poetry

THE GOLDEN CAGE

Out of my window 

on a bough of a huge tree,

a sweet bird used to sing in a most melodious tone.

She chirped there beautifully daily.

Although the bough was dry and fruitless,

but she used to come for me at a specific time 

and in all condition,

Whether it be Autumn, Winter, Scorching Summer or torrential rain.

All the birds left that barren tree,

but my birdie was there along with me,

in my sorrows and loneliness.

I got so addicted to it that one day;

I bought a beautiful gift for her,

a token of my love.

Yes! a golden cage.

I desired to keep it in that cage, 

so that it could be with me forever.

I got possessive and obsessive in love.

And the day arrived,

it came to the bough as usual,

but I caught it and locked it in the cage.

Since that day, I never saw my birdie happy again.

It stopped singing, eating or enjoying my company,

though I gave her all the pleasures I can. 

The feelings of love became pain and hurt.

She was upset, I was hurt.

I couldn't judge whether she was caged or me.

Then, one day I decided to let it go,

enjoy its freedom.

I was happy on the thought that it would be lively again when freed,

but that never happened.

The bough is still there,

my birdie still comes,

but neither she is happy for me.

Maybe she has lost her trust and me,

my love.

_Sabin Javed

English Poetry