Man and Pretty Bird
Today I went to the museum and saw the elizabeth a. sackler center for feminist art exsibit. Really the goal is to show how women progressed in history. I saw four different pictures with a bird in a cage, a light bulp in a cage, a flower in a cage when the bird was out, and another was a bird in a tighter closed cage. So I wrote a poem/story about it.
(future)
The old woman sits down and looks at the fire
Her arms are tired
Her legs are weak
But her voice still remains loud and strong
Her face is wrinkled and her eyes are deep with history
(Past)
Man holds her freedom
Keeps her in a cage like a pretty bird
Out side she tweets
Inside she yells
But Man dose not hear the inner fury of her hell
One night she asked her self
‘Why dose Man keep me here in this cage as his pretty bird?”
Her eyes wonder to the lamp beside her cage
The golden bulb shines to brightly and it says
‘Man is to ignorant , to selfish, and to blind from his greed to see your purpose’
She thinks…
My purpose …my freedom
Screams and yells taunted Man
But Man was not a fool
His pretty bird has rebelled against him
Her piercing screeching angered Man
But still Man did not budge
Instead man bought a smaller cage
This brought down the pretty bird and gave him some peace
But still the pretty bird screams
Years passed and Man became restless and the pretty bird became louder
Man said
‘Pretty bird what do you want?’
The pretty bird said
‘My freedom from this cage’
Man said
‘So be it’
Man opened the cage and let her out
Her wings carried her out the window and to the embracement of freedoms arms
And became a woman
More years passed and other pretty birds did the same and were eventually freed and were women
Their daughters, granddaughters, great granddaughters, etc we free from the start of their birth.
(future)
That night the old woman laid in her bed and closed her eyes
Her soul drift from her body and to a better place
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