People lay in open cages,
Built to age with the door
Swinging, creaking.
They wallow there, staring
After the open sky as
Outsiders encourage them
To leave. Their door is open,
Left unhinged.
The outsiders chant, pushing
Them to the edge. They tell
Those open-caged people to
Lie to their desires and fears,
Despite being witness to
Their truths.
The outsiders speak of closed
Laughter, telling them to take
Flight. Fly like a flock of birds
With crippled wings, as if that
Truth is some grand thing.
Just let me tell
You this, weary bird.
They lie.