Be Free, Little Bird

By Jaesryna Sachdeva

I looked into a mirror,

and I saw a scar on my face.

It made my face unpleasant,

as I stood there, quiescent.

I applied some balm,

some remedy to end the qualm.

and every day I looked, every day I checked,

yet the scar, the scar never left.

then one day, I asked a friend for advice.

she stared at me, without a clue.

‘What scar?’ she asked

“What an oblivious fellow.” thought I.

on the way back home,

I noticed a puddle.

I looked in it and saw

not a speck of the scar.

I sighed in relief,

yet I wondered on the way

had it simply vanished?

I had to know how it went away.

I went and looked in the mirror,

the scar again there.

that was when the smoke cleared,

and I saw that the scar wasn’t on my face, but the surface nearby.

how despicable,

the flawed mirror’s deceive.

the mystery, my misery, finally explicable,

your image depends on how it’s perceived.

everyone’s eyes are cruel.

to look at yourself from them eyes,

is not to be done, a fixed rule.

because then you’re living a lie, burying the truth.

be free, little bird.

don’t you stop flying if they think it’s too high.

don’t you stop flying because it’s out of their view, don’t you cry.

don’t you quit, don’t you be caged, don’t you ever comply.

be free, little bird.

free like the air.

By Jaesryna Sachdeva