The Cry of a Songbird

The cry of a songbird
awakened me to a world of ice
and I wondered
how a song so soft and gentle
could belong to a place so harsh

The rhythm of the song was
a beat that spelled out hope
that did not belong in the filth
my hands reached out
but the harsh rusted bars held them back

It was a reminder
of a broken dream
a reminder that these hands
could not longer touch the song
that had touched the place in my soul still innocent