The bubble walked into a cage,
the corner opened its jaw in rage.
Leaning into the crevice,
the lining felt safe.
Curled up into a ball,
shielded from the fall,
the bubble lives through.
No spike
No nail
No tooth
It floated around.
And then there was a sound!
The door clanked open,
freedom handed as a token.
Others soon congratulate,
the bubble couldn't relate.

the blue of the sky
to the rusty spike.
the red of the blossom
to the thick hard bottom.

from sorted to mangled,
from floating to entangled.

As many slowly rose,
this bubble finally chose.
It slowly moves to the ground,
did you even hear the sound?
The green of the grass,
was now a blade in glass.

Finally in peace let it settle -
The bubble is truly on it's mettle.