Freedom Shivers

When looking upon the face of man,

his expression tells from where he ran.

He looks as he were cooked in a pan,

for his skin carries a deep, dark tan.

Questions asked, but he were not a fan,

for he spoke as if his words were ban.

Freedom comes at a large hefty price,

leaving no more than a bowl of rice,

everything else was spent with the dice.

For life was hard, and hardly came nice.

troubled enough he lived with the mice,

sprawled face-down in dirt, covered in lice.

Laboring the fields, he looks to the sun,

imagining days with no work, only fun.

Piercing eyes, with hands twitching for their gun,

ensuring that no one breaks for a run.

Looking yonder, the man in chain looks to run,

all in vain for the deed has been done.

No more is the man who weeps to be free,

his heart locked up and thrown the key.

He played the game, and his life was the fee.

stained was his shirt as he dropped to one knee.

His vision fades, no longer can he see,

the sky above nor the evergreen tree,

Ever so sweet was his bitter death.

Smiling, no words on his final breath.

Author's Note

i'm pretty much just looking for awkward lines.