There are days when it is pure struggle,
Battling between words and word eaters.
The best of best words are kept within the cage,
Unleashing the rest to scare away the enemies.
Caged ones sing,
Waiting for freedom.
Seldom has it happened,
For they are saved for the writer’s own sake.
The saddest part of all is packing words in bundles,
And selling them during existential crises.
By waving goodbye,
The words keepers hope that the words will end in safe homes.
Not again in cages,
But on authors’ desks and alleys of happiness,
On poets laps and in storytellers minds.