Eagle in the cage was asked.
Preplexed,its beaks worn out from nibbling on the steel bars,
flapping in desperation wings shed the feathers.
' Freedom' it said.' er....is when I stretch my wings,
feel the wind
And glide for miles over the mountains,ridges and rivers.
I declare the sky as my conquest and from above
I could watch the world goes by.
Sheltering in the concrete den,lion in the zoo.
Limps as it walks and licks the wound.
Tired of been taunted.Said, ' Freedom is when I could
run on the open vastness of the plain,drink from the steam
to quench my thirst.
Silence descends when I roar; I am the King of the jungle'.
Far in the corner of the prison wall, handcuffed,legs shackled,
dressed in tattar prison uniform, laid a political prisoner.
He smiled but weakly and said in bearly audible voice,' Freedom is
when I could be with my family without being seperated, walk
the street of Lhasa without being detained, express my view
without being prosecuted, protest without being labeled as 'Dalai Clique'
And freedom is when I could shout BHOGYALO!!!!*
without being locked up for years and years.
* Victory for Tibet.