Once upon a time, there was a golden canary. 

She lives in a sphere of golden straws. 
She perches on a long golden bar. 

All around her are other canaries.
None are gold like her, most are red like cherries.

When Jim, the reddest of the cherry canaries, told her he was leaving, she couldn’t believe it. 
She asks, Why would you leave? We have everything. Food and shelter, someone even scoops up our shit.

But it’s not the things I crave, Jim says. I want an adventure out there. 
She replies, “Haven’t you seen the posters? Travelers beware!”

“You’re just afraid. Can you make it by yourself?”
“I’d rather be in here than dead up on a shelf.” 

“That’s your choice then. Next time he opens up my cage I’m out of here.”
She nods quietly. Looking away as she sheds a tear. 

Sure enough, the time comes. 
The start to Jim living on breadcrumbs. 

He flies wildly once the big man is off guard. 
Flapping his wings for the first time, he speeds towards the window, his beak crushing against it, hard. 

His little wings flapped no more.
The big man scoops him off of the floor. 

He shakes his head and grabs a box. 
Puts Jim and his big dreams on a shelf next to the clocks. 

The golden canary sleeps horribly that night.
What remains of Jim still sits squarely in her sight. 

The next day the big man comes with a new canary.
A red cherry canary, who says his name is Harry.

The golden canary could barely speak to him.
Harry is great, but she knew he was no Jim. 

Something strange about Harry lies squarely in his wings. 
It’s shorter, shaped weirdly by an unknown thing. 

The golden canary makes up her mind. 
She’s ready to fly and leave this nightmare behind. 

If not for herself, then for Jim’s dead dreams. 
She knows to plan in advance, since the dire consequences are extreme. 

The morning comes where she plans to fly away. 
No part in her mind could convince her to stay. 

The big man comes and opens up her cage. 
She steps up as if she’s on a big stage. 

This time he doesn’t refill or clean. 
He grabs her with an object in his hand, something long, steely and lean. 

The golden canary sings, more exactly screams. 
She’s never seen it before, but knew it would kill her dreams. 

When the deed is done, he pets her gently. 
Inside all parts of her died, he was killing her softly. 

The golden canary sits back on her perch.
She knows the adventure out there is no longer hers to search. 

She knows now that this sphere of golden straws. 
Was never truly what it says it was.