Sunday, February 19, 2012

Bird in a Gilded Cage


I’ve often written stories that talk about the price of fame,
Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, and now Whitney Houston, too many to name.
They have all suffered the consequence of a gift greater than most,
A gift that made people treat them like Kings and Queens on every Coast.
Sing song bird from your gilded cage,
Closed off from humanity,
You are who I say.
The King of this, the Queen of that, are the titles we’ve bestowed,
We, the fans who’ve watched you sang, dance, and hit every note.
WE love you we say,
as we watch the songbird inside its gilded cage.
You look out with eyes, that long to be free,
But we can’t let you go, for you are a rare species.
We love you so much that we want to know more,
Putting you in a gilded cage and closing the door.
A gilded cage has bars, much like a prison, despite being pretty.
A Prison serves to kill the spirit of men, who have done wrong,
Are we, the fans, unwitting players in the demise of these beautiful songbirds who no longer sing their songs?
Is there a lesson to be learned so we can protect the next rare species to come along?
Let’s throw away their gilded cages and our need to know more,
Let’s allow them the unfettered freedom to soar.
Because when you love something truly
You have to set it free,
Or wake up one morning to find that your songbird ceases to be.
It’s too late for Elvis, Michael, Whitney and the others,
But it’s not too late for those songbirds that are among us.
Let’s give them room to be a son, father, brother, daughter, sister or mother
Without the constant pry,
of our watchful eye,
that critiques every motive.
Soar high to the Songbirds who are now free from their cage.
I only wish we had known earlier the price of fame.
~d-the-VIP