Dear Little Blackbird, can't you see?
All that heartache and pain, which refuses to set you free?
It constricts you, preventing even the tip of a wing from escaping,
Soon all you'll be able to hear is the sound of your own heart breaking.
And yet, you fight.
What's wrong with you, you stupid Little Blackbird?
Haven't you heard?
Why can't you see?
The bars are closing in on you, you aren't going to be able to leave.
And yet, you still struggle, not giving it a moment's rest.
What will you do when all your breath leaves your chest?
Silly Little Blackbird, I don't understand.
Why are you still trying when you barely have energy left to stand?
How do you still have hope when you know you are stuck?
How do you fight when you know nobody can get you out of this muck?
Why do you look me in the eye with such ferocity and determination?
I'm sorry, but the train for salvation has already left the station.
Poor Little Blackbird, I feel pity for you.
You cry for help, and others laugh at everything you do.
You scream and you cry, often wishing to die.
Never noticing that there are people who would help you, and always be by your side.
I can feel your rage Little Blackbird, all pent up inside.
You can't let it out, nor can you brush it aside.
You can't let it out, nor can you set it free.
For it would do nothing, just make you go about life even more miserably.
Little Blackbird, your sadness is by far the easiest thing to see.
For no matter how hard you try to push it down, your little mind cannot contain everything.
And, you poor thing, as each day goes by,
I can see you try harder and harder to hold in tears that you so desperately want to cry.
Sweet Little Blackbird, are you afraid?
Scared of all the work you must do, for which you will never be paid?
I can tell you're petrified by the thought of being left behind,
Of seeing others opening their wings, while you're still undefined.
No, Little Blackbird, don't lose hope.
For we are all lost, and have many reasons to mope.
The fact that you haven't stopped proves you are strong,
And one day soon, a helper will come along.
So Little Blackbird, as I watch you fight,
The freedom you've been waiting so long for comes in the night.
They open your cage, saying "Fly! Be free!"
"Be whoever you've always wanted to be!"
But Little Blackbird, I can see you hesitate,
Standing near the edge of that newly opened gate.
Your fight isn't over, and you're not yet free,
For even though your prison has been opened, you don't remember who you used to be.
Dear Little Blackbird, it pains my heart to see,
That the memories you lost are the ones you most need.
Memories of you, and what you used to be,
Memories of how to fly and how to use your wings,
They're all gone, and they're what you most desperately need.
For, Little Blackbird, you'll never be free.
Not until you become who you are truly supposed to be.