Envy the sparrow perched on a willow
And wish for his freedom, and not his wings.
Because what is flying when boundbinded by strings?
And what if we were trapped like Calypso?
Confined to infinity going solo.
Or to be restrained like rich ancient kings
Power doesn’t mean free reign? How that stings!
Often to survive, choice we must forgo.
And yet we rise up, and try to fly far.
The sparrow soars through the clouds, rain or shine.
Calypso won’t stop till she gets away.
Giving in, giving up, it’s not who we are.
We swarm to solutions like a goldmine.
Gravity pulls us down, yet we find gateways.