the small, bruised bird cries deep within. thru bars of hate, and perched on sin. she dreams of endless bright blue sky. to breathe, to see, to live, to fly. her beak sewn shut her wings useless inside the cage an ugly mess. but in her heart a song she sings. and hope this song will one day bring. so through the neverending night the tiny bird dreams of taking flight. to places new, and left unseen. because to the small bruised bird its just a dream.