I read today that there are birds and hands
An allegory, if you will
Of lovers and couples
And why some lovers fail
And some couples fall apart
I don’t know what I am
I guess it depends on what my love is
But I think I’m a bird.
I’m a bird 
But I like a hand that’s soft and ever present 
Just enough to feel myself surrounded
And light enough to know I’m never trapped
If it feels just right
I’ll always come back
But if there’s not enough of you there
What is there to come back to, anyway?
And if there’s too much,
How do I know you’ll let me fly?
I know why the caged bird sings, 
I long for freedom too,
But I don’t have the patience 
Or maybe I just don’t trust enough.  
My point is, I’m a bird, 
And you’re a bird,
And two birds might never come together. 
Maybe you’re a bird because that’s what I told you I need. 
But I don’t think I’ll ever know for sure.