FreedomA Poem by theButlerI get very philosophical at 4 in the morning...
What does freedom even mean?
Does it have a meaning to those in jeans? And those locked away, Shall we just rot and in the wind sway? To me, to us, It lost its meaning before we stepped on the bus. The day when we got locked up, We couldn't even find freedom under a cup. So many things lost, The most important was a heavy cost. She was (and is) everything to me, Now it wouldn't matter if I hung from a tree. The goal is just out of arms reach, Then I'll be able to go to the beach. Unless of course the test gets me, Then I'd give up my dreams of eternity. -DCF © 2013 theButler |
StatsAuthortheButlerTXAboutI've been told I am an awesome writer. I write stories and poetry though I have written one song with a friend. My poems are mainly about love and loneliness and my novel-in-progress is about zombies... more..Writing
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