Your failure to control was deemed my fault—

Projection was forever your defense,

My failed acquiescence a dire assault

To undermine benevolent intent.

Life would be perfect should I follow cue

And simply serenade from gilded cage;

All rights surrendered with the words ‘I do’—

The words of ‘no or don’t’ fair courting rage.

The bird of love sings sweetest when set free

And bides his time whenever he’s confined,

Forever searching for that golden key

Or turn of fate that may his heart unbind;

Yet when escaped, his captor wonders why

That he might ever leave…or yet could fly.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.