Long ago and far away
in lands of make believe
two free birds flew freely
in a darkened cellar
where the light was blinding
and smiles and coos
and flapping wings
gave flight
to a giddy hi!!
for a moment of free...
Not to be-
a witness saw
and cut off the wings
in an irreverent prayer
of condemnation.
Go home, and you...
winged devil
put on your clothes
and go to your room
and think about what
you did... in your
contemptuous nakedness!
You can't be free here
it's wrong
and evil!
Your body is sacred
when it has clothes on.
The child punished
hid in the shadows
of a bedroom of horrors
that were quiet and
accepted.
She did not forget
that freedom...
she flies
as much
and as often
as she can
get away with...
in the comfort of
her own cellar,
bedroom, freedom.
Dress me up
strip me down
and share my flight.
God knows,
and so do I,
it was not the last
joy of unadulterated
freedom
that was my birthright.
It just stays hidden
amongst the
children who
never grew up
to conform to a
shamed world.
Fly free,
naked and pure,
open and
sing your coo...
the adults were wrong
in their righteousness.
