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The heart beats in its gilded cage, the fool
that cannot break the bounds of its own bars.
It cannot bend this iron strapping cruel
that keeps it under lock and key, its scars
less noticeable to the passerby,
less obvious to lovers who would fly.
My heart's a bird that can't escape its perch
but tends it with compulsive diligence
that coddles as it cradles every lurch
and does its best to feather indigence.
An egg of robin blue's my small bound heart
that aches to smash its shell, release its song.
My heart hums silent dirges, hymns apart
from any hope of transcending for long.
Poema escrito em inglês por nossa leitora e escritora estadunidense Marcy Jarvis, do site AllPoetry.