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.