Ila Railkar
Lunch time at last
A morsel of solace from the undeserving boss
I play cute secretary to
Inwardly seething
The lush green parrot
Proud and tall, perched on the table before me
Greeting me with a sunny smile
Without a care
I asked him if he was set free
At which he laughed, without humour: I chirped sweet words on request,
And dolled up and played as they wished
Why would they ever set me free?
Was it worth it at all
I asked him with bated breath, keen eyes fixed on me
He unfurled his wings wide in reply
Blood red beak glistening
The boss’s sharp tone then rang out
I shook myself from the reverie – how real it had seemed!
But as I steeled myself to face him I saw
A dark green feather on my table