This place is a prison. I’m a bird in cage. Whenever someone walks by, I chirp frantically for the key. Some will yank on the bars and offer their sympathy, but no one except my master holds the key to this cell. I haven’t seen the sky outside for years now.
He sits in quietly, eyes looking at me with frustration. I’m sorry my darling, it’s for your own good. He yowls in desperation, wanting to be free. I put a cloth over the bars to block the sun and hope for the best.
The cage was tight. It prevented me from doing a lot of things, but especially that which I desired most. It was, for all intents and purposes, the physical manifestation of an emotional wall. And I was stuck in it for better or for worse.
I’ve been stuck in here for 9 days now. It’s pure torture living like an animal but I’m starting to enjoy it. I feel sadistic and carnivorous. Feed me anything with meat on it and i’ll devour it. I’ll drink it’s blood.
Spastic fingers droning against iron. We sit and watch the steam rise from little paper cups of awkward silence. Your hands rest in your lap, and you smile at me, laughing. There isn’t much to say, but our lips are parted anyway. We’re trapped here, I swear to god. We’re trapped in this teenage angst. It’s suffocating. It’s beautiful.
I was stuck in a cage. I woke up there and didn’t remember being put in. Was I hurt? How did I get there? Outside the cage are people looking in. Staring at me. It dawned on me that I had been turned into some sort of freak show; a human zoo. What was different between me and the people on the other side of the bars?
animals trapped in a zoo in the 1920s. A Coney Island type of place where people think a tigeris the most exotic thing they’ve ever seen and it is.
bad conditions. uncomfortable. hard floors. frustration.
i feel like i’m in a cage. a cage of others’ expectations and limitations – and i’m an animal in a zoo. a zoo for them to come and laugh, and point and say “see that disaster over there? you’re never supposed to be like that. ahaha, how pathetic!” and i’m helpless
Bird Cages, pretty old things… dusty and cramped. But strangely beautiful in the slanting dusk. Faded and beautiful. You knew then, what a cage was… when you could see it glimmering in the light.
Cages are confining. They keep you in one space limited to their defined area. They keep you in and everything out. Whatever that everything is. Food. Wild animals. Drugs. They can be good or bad. But definitely not black and white.
She swept out the last of the shared pieces of bone left in the cage, wondering if her life would be the same now thaT THE BIG, BEAUTIFUL CAT WAS GONE FOREVER.
by the time I got home from the grocery store, I noticed that she had been in the cage for nearly 4 days. I was not about to give up yet as I wanted to make sure she was trained thoroughly for the upcoming sex show that I was scheduled to perform in. My last assistant walked off the job and I wasn’t about to let that happen again.
nothing is coming to mind. it’s like my mind is in a cage and right now nothing is able to get in or out. all words stopped making sense; i hear them but nothing sticks. i know what a cat is…but what is it? my mind is stuck in a cage.
“Despite all my rage I’m still just a rat in a cage.”
Reminds me of that Smashing Pumpkins song when I was 17 and full of angst before being “emo” was cool or even a thing. Reminds me also of my ex boyfriend, a boy who dumped me because he got accepted to West Point and I wasn’t marriage material.
The cage was closed, as the animal moved around looking at his food. Dakota could harly contain her excitement. Today, she got a chance to visit the Zoo. The animal moved closer. She could see into his eyes.
cage
i was locked in this once
my brain ever pushing forward
horrible mental images
keeping me locked in
then one day i broke out
i’ve never looked back
A place where monkey’s hang out and look at humans who have put them there. A cage is a cube like area that has bar and it encapsulates a being inside. Cage is the last name of Nicolas. Cage is the first word I’ve tried at the oneword website. Cage is the location for beautiful birds. I don’t really like c
Do we all live in a cage? I mean, really? We choose our cages. Someone might feel caged in as a housewife, while someone else might feel caged in as a doctor or lawyer or businessperson. There is no one who isn’t in some sort of cage, but the good news is that they are all self-created.
Cage.
What is freedom and what is bondage? Is the cage a place to keep me from life, or is it a place to remain safe from everything on the outside? My bird loves her cage. Have I too become too enamored with the cage to fly free in the world?
the bird sat in the little cage. the cat chased the bird in the cage. the cage swayed back and forth rapidly. The dog chased the bird in the cage. the bird almost fell out of the cage and died. the boy threw snowballs in the page with the bird in it. the cage is being held by a person. the person let the bird out of the cage.
the animals in the cage were very sad nd hungry . you could tell they had been in there a long time .thier fur was all dirty and matted. it smelled reAL bad. The eop of the cage did not have an shade , so the animal where in the hot sun all day.
I feel trapped. My heart is pounding but there’s no one around to hear it. I feel like if I rattle the bars, people will just stare like I’m some sort of animal, and not bother to lend a helping hand to get me out. The keys are on the wall, I can see them from where I stand but when I reach, they’re just beyond my fingertips, and I can brush across them but I can’t unhook them from where they are. I feel like if I could just extend my arm a little farther, I could get them… but I can’t.
I don’t feel good. My head feels like a tiger’s inside trying to tear out of its cage. So why am I writing this? I have no idea. It sure as hell ain’t helping my head.
The family’s little bird was in it’s cage which sat high upon a shelf to prevent the inquisitive, ever-hungry kitty from gaining access. Here his life was spent in solitary confinement, but safety.
are you inside or out? the bars look the same from both sides, trapped or pitying, happy or sad, free or caged.
but tell me, you’ve trapped freedom, why won’t you share? let me in there, let me see things the way you see. won’t you share?
green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, how is it you sing? teach me to transcend all else through song, so i too can be immortalised in memory, so you will speak of she who was free in all ways save the physical.
green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird…
hmm, cage. Confined. Limiting. Yet giving you views to the outside world. Taunting you with freedom just beyond your grasp. Just beyond your control. Someone else in control of your fate, of your life. Hard, cold. Solitary. A lonely existence. Unless, of course, you’re not by yourself in there. Still sucks, but at least you’ve got company that way.
In one staring out she thought about how she came to be there and how she would get out. Below the creaking of stairs, trod on by heavy feet, mean feet, destructive feet.
Prisoners are ‘caged’, especially when the press are talking about them. A cage is a one-man prison, or a one-animal prison, or a two-man prison during a cage-fight.
people like to think that they live their life in a cage. but the real cage is in their head. there’s no shortage of things to do with yourself, if you have the nerve and the guts to go after them, but people regard certain things as unbreakable rules and they allow themselves to be sucked into mainstream pathetic attempts at a good life.
Cage can be used in any number of ways. I like cagey. It’s a good adjective describing a good quality. The word cage though has a bad connotation.
We had a bird cage for our parakeets and finches. Never liked it. Never liked cleaning it . It smelled . It was ugly metal.
This place is a prison. I’m a bird in cage. Whenever someone walks by, I chirp frantically for the key. Some will yank on the bars and offer their sympathy, but no one except my master holds the key to this cell. I haven’t seen the sky outside for years now.
He sits in quietly, eyes looking at me with frustration. I’m sorry my darling, it’s for your own good. He yowls in desperation, wanting to be free. I put a cloth over the bars to block the sun and hope for the best.
The cage was tight. It prevented me from doing a lot of things, but especially that which I desired most. It was, for all intents and purposes, the physical manifestation of an emotional wall. And I was stuck in it for better or for worse.
I’ve been stuck in here for 9 days now. It’s pure torture living like an animal but I’m starting to enjoy it. I feel sadistic and carnivorous. Feed me anything with meat on it and i’ll devour it. I’ll drink it’s blood.
Spastic fingers droning against iron. We sit and watch the steam rise from little paper cups of awkward silence. Your hands rest in your lap, and you smile at me, laughing. There isn’t much to say, but our lips are parted anyway. We’re trapped here, I swear to god. We’re trapped in this teenage angst. It’s suffocating. It’s beautiful.
I was stuck in a cage. I woke up there and didn’t remember being put in. Was I hurt? How did I get there? Outside the cage are people looking in. Staring at me. It dawned on me that I had been turned into some sort of freak show; a human zoo. What was different between me and the people on the other side of the bars?
animals trapped in a zoo in the 1920s. A Coney Island type of place where people think a tigeris the most exotic thing they’ve ever seen and it is.
bad conditions. uncomfortable. hard floors. frustration.
i feel like i’m in a cage. a cage of others’ expectations and limitations – and i’m an animal in a zoo. a zoo for them to come and laugh, and point and say “see that disaster over there? you’re never supposed to be like that. ahaha, how pathetic!” and i’m helpless
I don’t want to write about cages….They are just devises both physically or metaphorically to contain something, and I want freedom.
Bars, constricting but also liberating, after passing through, they mark departure point for everything else in life that one takes for granted.
Bird Cages, pretty old things… dusty and cramped. But strangely beautiful in the slanting dusk. Faded and beautiful. You knew then, what a cage was… when you could see it glimmering in the light.
Cages are confining. They keep you in one space limited to their defined area. They keep you in and everything out. Whatever that everything is. Food. Wild animals. Drugs. They can be good or bad. But definitely not black and white.
She swept out the last of the shared pieces of bone left in the cage, wondering if her life would be the same now thaT THE BIG, BEAUTIFUL CAT WAS GONE FOREVER.
by the time I got home from the grocery store, I noticed that she had been in the cage for nearly 4 days. I was not about to give up yet as I wanted to make sure she was trained thoroughly for the upcoming sex show that I was scheduled to perform in. My last assistant walked off the job and I wasn’t about to let that happen again.
nothing is coming to mind. it’s like my mind is in a cage and right now nothing is able to get in or out. all words stopped making sense; i hear them but nothing sticks. i know what a cat is…but what is it? my mind is stuck in a cage.
It’s all metal and leather, meant to move me – take me places these broken legs can’t go.
But really this seat on wheels holds me back more than you can imagine.
cage is a general anti violence therapy
“Despite all my rage I’m still just a rat in a cage.”
Reminds me of that Smashing Pumpkins song when I was 17 and full of angst before being “emo” was cool or even a thing. Reminds me also of my ex boyfriend, a boy who dumped me because he got accepted to West Point and I wasn’t marriage material.
The cage was closed, as the animal moved around looking at his food. Dakota could harly contain her excitement. Today, she got a chance to visit the Zoo. The animal moved closer. She could see into his eyes.
cage
i was locked in this once
my brain ever pushing forward
horrible mental images
keeping me locked in
then one day i broke out
i’ve never looked back
A place where monkey’s hang out and look at humans who have put them there. A cage is a cube like area that has bar and it encapsulates a being inside. Cage is the last name of Nicolas. Cage is the first word I’ve tried at the oneword website. Cage is the location for beautiful birds. I don’t really like c
iron bars, windows, doors with latches, empty, lonley, small, animals, jails, harsh,
Do we all live in a cage? I mean, really? We choose our cages. Someone might feel caged in as a housewife, while someone else might feel caged in as a doctor or lawyer or businessperson. There is no one who isn’t in some sort of cage, but the good news is that they are all self-created.
Cage.
What is freedom and what is bondage? Is the cage a place to keep me from life, or is it a place to remain safe from everything on the outside? My bird loves her cage. Have I too become too enamored with the cage to fly free in the world?
the bird sat in the little cage. the cat chased the bird in the cage. the cage swayed back and forth rapidly. The dog chased the bird in the cage. the bird almost fell out of the cage and died. the boy threw snowballs in the page with the bird in it. the cage is being held by a person. the person let the bird out of the cage.
the animals in the cage were very sad nd hungry . you could tell they had been in there a long time .thier fur was all dirty and matted. it smelled reAL bad. The eop of the cage did not have an shade , so the animal where in the hot sun all day.
I feel trapped. My heart is pounding but there’s no one around to hear it. I feel like if I rattle the bars, people will just stare like I’m some sort of animal, and not bother to lend a helping hand to get me out. The keys are on the wall, I can see them from where I stand but when I reach, they’re just beyond my fingertips, and I can brush across them but I can’t unhook them from where they are. I feel like if I could just extend my arm a little farther, I could get them… but I can’t.
I don’t feel good. My head feels like a tiger’s inside trying to tear out of its cage. So why am I writing this? I have no idea. It sure as hell ain’t helping my head.
Birds are locked up in cages. Their helpless eyes looking at you very sadly wondering where their family is. They are like prisoners lockedaway.
The family’s little bird was in it’s cage which sat high upon a shelf to prevent the inquisitive, ever-hungry kitty from gaining access. Here his life was spent in solitary confinement, but safety.
are you inside or out? the bars look the same from both sides, trapped or pitying, happy or sad, free or caged.
but tell me, you’ve trapped freedom, why won’t you share? let me in there, let me see things the way you see. won’t you share?
green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, how is it you sing? teach me to transcend all else through song, so i too can be immortalised in memory, so you will speak of she who was free in all ways save the physical.
green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird…
one who dont drink alcohol
Brown I,
Thanks for your mental cage. Love, friendship, loyalty=death in return. I owe you nothing and hope you suffer for your crimes and selfishness.
hmm, cage. Confined. Limiting. Yet giving you views to the outside world. Taunting you with freedom just beyond your grasp. Just beyond your control. Someone else in control of your fate, of your life. Hard, cold. Solitary. A lonely existence. Unless, of course, you’re not by yourself in there. Still sucks, but at least you’ve got company that way.
In one staring out she thought about how she came to be there and how she would get out. Below the creaking of stairs, trod on by heavy feet, mean feet, destructive feet.
What was she going to do?
We found her curled
in the cedar chips
still warm but stiff
now she sleeps out back
under a cinder block grave
so the dogs can dig her up
Prisoners are ‘caged’, especially when the press are talking about them. A cage is a one-man prison, or a one-animal prison, or a two-man prison during a cage-fight.
people like to think that they live their life in a cage. but the real cage is in their head. there’s no shortage of things to do with yourself, if you have the nerve and the guts to go after them, but people regard certain things as unbreakable rules and they allow themselves to be sucked into mainstream pathetic attempts at a good life.