even if it means imprisonment
sometimes, there’s freedom in chains
and sometimes, freedom is about casting off those same chains
I must wear this to work,
that to bed, this to play,
not that instead. How free
am I when social norms, religion,
my need for acceptance rules
my choices? Then there is the
multitude who have so little to
choose from, their worlds limited
by war, famine, illness, poverty
of soul. How free are they?
Most often our values and
opinions are mirroring
something we read, saw, or
heard. Even this poetry contains
ideas that existed before: faith,
jealously, fear, love. How
unique am I, one of billions who
walk the Earth? How free am I?
Yet there is one place where I am
truly free, where no shackle can
exist. Ask Nelson Mandela who was
in an African jail for 27 years.
He was free all those years for no
one could capture his soul. No one
could imprison his truth.
We are free at our inner most…
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