The Caged Bird

It's time
for the caged bird to sing,
as for she is closed,
in not a soundproof cage.
She can't fly,
but she can sing,
can be heard,
for her closed in rage.

She sees a barrier, a limit, a wall,
nothing between the grilles.
She is smaller, in the cage that is small,
her beak is taped closed, she feels.

In all this time she learned:
can do nothing, she is locked.
She didn't think she was heard
when with singing voice, she talked.