The red canary

Before I had a dream, it was a very nice dream.

When I was a child, I wanted to be like the red canary my grandmother had.

Always happy, and always singing, he was capable of making your heart reach an inexplicable tranquility; But now that I think about it, it was a silly dream after all.

I only remember, that as that canary was red, I wanted to be like him, and I always tried to use everything I could in red ...

I feel like I'm digressing a bit in my own feelings ...

Now the snow is falling ... it seems like a miracle, it is white and pure, it is perfect for today. My scarf is wrapped around my neck, it is very warm ... it really is ...

I feel like the wind blows my hair braiding it and playing with it, it's a bit cold ...

I wonder if I should try to fly like my grandmother's red canary, although if I think about it ... all his life he was locked in a cage, singing for others, or perhaps allowing his song to be stolen by others. The day I opened the cage, my grandmother challenged me severely. But ... I will never be able to forget how that red canary flew so free ... although his freedom lasted for a short time, I could tell that he was happy; then it was eaten by a cat that was in the mud.

I wish I could be like the red canary ...

I wish the feeling of dying ...

I wish it would stop ...

I want someone to stop me ...

But the cage has already opened ...