The Gilded Cage

The cage had drawn her for its beauty,

its elaborate gilded rungs,

its luminous tiered perches,

its promise of a safe landing.

She had entered it herself,

desperate for a home,

but the door latched behind her.

For years she sought a way out,

tried to be happy here

tried to make do.

But the lock couldn't be picked,

and the gaps were too small

and there was no happiness to be found.

Until one day, she realized

the door had never been locked at all.

Her beautiful wings spread on either side of her,

after years of torturously small flutters. 

You can follow me. Come with.

But she did not say that she would wait.

No, she could not wait.

She had remained for too long.

And so she didn't look back,

even as a single feather fell,

floating down in front of him

as he watched her go.

And he let her go.

Not out of love,

not out of fear,

not because he didn't know how to fly.

But because he had never cared to try.