Jail bird Song

I am a jailbird and you are one too.

I am a pauper. My cell’s tiny, stinks, has bars, no curtains, no indoor pot. From my dirty window I cannot see the stars-

yours has been sprayed, polished and is costly but, like Hamlet, its wiring’s all wrong and that brings me to the reason I would not rather live on Mars.

Some bird told me a secret I simply tell to you.

Tho’ we be alive and breathin’ there is nothing we can do.

Since we put our ownselves in prison we can walk. Lockups are mental incapacity. We don’t admit it but it’s true.  

It’s not funny. I’m not teasin’.

Burn yer dollars! Un-license lawyers!

Give away some stuff and there will always be enough!

Mention to your brain it has permission to cease thinking for an hour. Let it go. Let it go quiet.  Let it go quiet and still. Out of unprecedented rapture, it will find itself linked with all atoms of the entire Universe to perceive what is without has totally sprung from what’s within. The observed is the observer. Thinking, a limited tool, will be used for the mundane. A free life will begin!

Before you know it, the one who was a jailbird will fly by opening its present.