I’m a prisoner of my own misery and misfortune

I could’a

Should’a

Would’ve left

But I didn’t know how.

With wings clipped,

A bird cannot fly.

But it can be free

And soar and reach the sky

It can escape

By getting high.

I’ve trapped myself in this gilded cage

By putting up

Shutting up

By letting things slide

And glide on by,

Suffering this insufferable, intolerable tolerance

Of things I cannot abide.

From which I shied away

Day after day

As time went by

Because I was high.

It will utter words of love

That it knows are a lie

It will do anything,

Anything

So long as it can get high.

It can leave the self-imposed confines

Where its passion and lust for life

Will slowly wither and die

Because all it wants now is to get high.

Goodbye my fragile little bird,

Goodbye.