The Wings Were Ready To Fly

Somewhere in the woods of wild,

A little soul was soft and mild.

Roaming in the gardens fresh,

In the skirts of nature itself.

The wings were ready to take off,

Flying beyond the limits laid above.

Alas! All this was just a fantasy,

A dream that would never come to reality.

As she was trapped with fear,

In the cages of fright and tear.

Wanting to be unfettered,

Leaving behind the ties of hatred.