Straw Man

If I had a voice, I'd tell you a story.

It'd be glorious, too, it'd have war, egomaniacs,

bad guys and brainiacs,

romance and espionage.

I'd make a collage of borrowed devices,

with every intention of returning.

I'd spin you a synthetic yarn that entices,

that appeals to your escapist yearning.

And speaking of that pretty caged bird

whose song pumps the blood through your veins...

her, I'd straight-up steal.

No forgiveness, no permission,

just a wish in one hand would be all that remains.

If I had the vision,

I'd watch her flutter to freedom

after I'd let her go,

then I'd see everything there was to see.

If I'd any cognition, I'd know what's to know.

If I had skin, it would ache

for the touch of yours.

If I had ears, I'd never have to fake

that I hear your cry as it implores,

as it begs me to be, to be.

But I'm deaf, dumb and blind, true,

need I remind you?

I'd do it if I had a brain.

If I had a heart,

despite all the pain

its reckless throbbing would cause,

I would urge you, quickly,

don't you dare take a pause,

fly away, while you still can...

silly me, I'd forgotten,

I haven't got hands

with which to disengage

that despicable lock

on that reprehensible cage

and allow you to return to your flock.

If I had a voice, I'd tell you I'm sorry.