From the first day, I know this is not where I belong.
A village that the bird can not escape;
a hall that silence all the thoughts;
a safe zone where life is too safe;
a horrific scene where night means darkness.

A hole with limited sunshine and that’s all I see;
The hole gets deeper, the light became a slim scene.
Birds can live underground, with just enough to eat.

Luckily, the 21st century is the age of mass production, of products, and people;
Questions are no longer essential because those professions are the authority.
Renaissance has passed,
So thoughts are not necessary, just need to listen and repeat when asked.
Birds can still fly, to a destination that they should not worry about.