Post by gary-parrot-rescue on Oct 30, 2006 22:35:38 GMT 1
THE HUMAN HAND
I didn’t ask to be your pet, you said you wanted me.
I was taken away from the world I knew, Though not unwillingly.
I’d learned to trust the human hand, With its soft and gentle touch,
So patiently I waited for The caress I loved so much.
I meant no harm that day I screeched, I just wanted you to see
That someone lived behind those bars, I thought you had forgotten me.
Then the human hand I loved so much came through my tiny door;
But it offered me no gentleness, as it knocked me to the floor.
A feeling welled inside of me, like I had never known.
I felt frightened, hurt, confused and lost, within the bars of my new home.
But patiently I waited for that hand to treat me right,
But it rarely came to bring me food, and there were no toys in sight.
In boredom and in loneliness, in hunger and despair
I slowly ripped my feathers out, but no-one helped, you didn’t care.
So I learned to hate the human hand as it slammed down on my cage,
It held a brand new meaning now, fear, pain, and rage.
And then one day a stranger came, and to my great surprise,
Gentle words came from her mouth, and tears welled in her eyes.
But then the terror filled my heart, for that human who had cried,
Opened up my tiny door, and put those human hands inside.
I screamed in panic, fear and dread, as I waited for the pain
That the human hand would give me as it slammed me once again.
But gently I was lifted from my prison, cold and bare;
But still I bit at those human hands in my terror and despair.
The new prison I was taken to was somewhat different to my home.
Fresh food was all around me, and toy friends to call my own.
And the human hands that touched me brought on me no more pain,
And slowly as the weeks went by, my ravaged feathers grew again.
And as the weeks passed into months, I began to understand,
That once again I could begin to trust the human hand.
I’m old now, really very old; but my memories are clear,
Of the gentle hand that soothed the pain from the hand I’d learned to fear.
I’m tired now, really very tired, many years my life has spanned,
So I close my eyes for one last time, safe and warm in the human hand.
I didn’t ask to be your pet, you said you wanted me.
I was taken away from the world I knew, Though not unwillingly.
I’d learned to trust the human hand, With its soft and gentle touch,
So patiently I waited for The caress I loved so much.
I meant no harm that day I screeched, I just wanted you to see
That someone lived behind those bars, I thought you had forgotten me.
Then the human hand I loved so much came through my tiny door;
But it offered me no gentleness, as it knocked me to the floor.
A feeling welled inside of me, like I had never known.
I felt frightened, hurt, confused and lost, within the bars of my new home.
But patiently I waited for that hand to treat me right,
But it rarely came to bring me food, and there were no toys in sight.
In boredom and in loneliness, in hunger and despair
I slowly ripped my feathers out, but no-one helped, you didn’t care.
So I learned to hate the human hand as it slammed down on my cage,
It held a brand new meaning now, fear, pain, and rage.
And then one day a stranger came, and to my great surprise,
Gentle words came from her mouth, and tears welled in her eyes.
But then the terror filled my heart, for that human who had cried,
Opened up my tiny door, and put those human hands inside.
I screamed in panic, fear and dread, as I waited for the pain
That the human hand would give me as it slammed me once again.
But gently I was lifted from my prison, cold and bare;
But still I bit at those human hands in my terror and despair.
The new prison I was taken to was somewhat different to my home.
Fresh food was all around me, and toy friends to call my own.
And the human hands that touched me brought on me no more pain,
And slowly as the weeks went by, my ravaged feathers grew again.
And as the weeks passed into months, I began to understand,
That once again I could begin to trust the human hand.
I’m old now, really very old; but my memories are clear,
Of the gentle hand that soothed the pain from the hand I’d learned to fear.
I’m tired now, really very tired, many years my life has spanned,
So I close my eyes for one last time, safe and warm in the human hand.