You live in a cage.

You were born in a cage. 

And you refuse to leave.

You say it keeps the predators out.

You say it keeps you safe.

You believe you’ll never experience the pain 

from a wounded limb

Or a broken wing.

Your feathers will never be ruffled

Your skin will never be sun burned.

You’ll never get lost

Or stranded, or killed at worst.

You’ll always be fed

You’ll never want for anything.

You want to be sure, secure, comfortable.
But you are wrong.

You are a prisoner

And that is by choice.

Yes, you’re trapped by choice.   

You fight to lock the bad out

And you forget

that you are really locking yourself in.
Sure, secure, comfortable,

Those aren’t words for an eagle.

They are words for a pet.

You are the predator.


You’re the one with the magical eyes 

That can challenge the galaxy’s sun 

With a stare.

You’re the one

As the ancient words say

That renews his strength 

And never wearies.
But you’ll never see the glory of the skies

Nor the majesty of the seas.

You’ll never experience the thrill

of soaring above the clouds.

You’ll never know how it feels

To fly without limits.

Your song will never be different.

And it might never be heard.

You’ll never experience

The joy of freedom 

Nor the relief of healing after pain.

You’ll never feel the wind on your face

Nor the drops of rain on your back.

You’ll never truly live.
You are an eagle, but

You’ll die average

Like every other pet in a cage.


Oh, just unless you leave the cage

And choose to fly.