From high up on the tree canopies

They once witnessed the world.

Green, yellow and all the shades in between

Coloured the horizon

And everything that could be seen.

They teetered and tottered

Watching the melodrama unfold

As they watched their “improved versions”

Act like their ancestors of old.

One day, the men looked up

and caught the sneaky spies

That signaled the end of their days

Of sleeping under the open skies.

Now they stare disbelievingly

At the bars that cage their spirits.

Once the voyeurs, now up centerstage

Performing for the very same artists.


4 thoughts on “Voyeurism

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