Bluebird The Prisoner

There is a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, 

I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you.

There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I put whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there.

There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay down, do you want to mess me up? You want to screw up the works? You want to blow my book sales in Europe?

There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say, I know that you're there, so don't be sad.

Then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep, but I don't weep, 

do you?

- Charles Bukowski

I still remember the first time I read this quote, the image of a bluebird in the prison came to my mind. Weirdo. The prison without iron bars was my hand, the bluebird without blue feathers was silent. He didn't smile and fly, but I couldn't let him go. 

Everyone has a bluebird in your hand, and he will never leave without your permission. You won't let anybody see him until you sure nobody could steal him. You only let him out at night since you were not that confident about him. 

One day you will lose him, or one day you will have him standing on the shoulder with you. 
It'll depend on your mind and plan for him. 
It'll depend on the prison you made for him.

Everyone has a bluebird in your hand.
He will stay in your heart till you really let him go.