welcome, may i offer u a cigerette...

I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals -
I know what the caged bird feels!

I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till his blood is red on the cruel bars;
For he must fly back to his perch and cling
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
And the pain still throbs on the old, old scars
And they pulse again with a keener sting-
I know why he beats his wing!

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,-
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his hearts deep core,
But a plee that upward to heaven he fling-
I know why the caged bird sings! -Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906)

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