Freedom Flight
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Poetry
I stand at my door and watch the birds
As they spread their wings and fly
Oh how wonderful my life would be
If I could fly so high
I'd peruse the vacant skyline
Before I take to flight
Feel the magic as the soft winds blow
As I rise up, to a soaring height
As I glide through the heavenly clouds
And gaze at the distant earth below
My freedom has never felt grander
And my soul has a peaceful, inner glow
Flying high across the valleys
The mountains, rivers and trees
Not concerned where my journey takes me
To have the freedom of “shooting the breeze”
In the distance I see a large building
It's where I'll take refuge for the night
Flying down I look for a landing
To rest my weary body, from its flight
In an instant my body jolts and I awaken
I sit up and my blood runs pale
Rubbing my eyes, I realise I've been dreaming
Oh dear God, I'm still locked up in jail!
I stand at my door and watch the birds
As they spread their wings and fly
Oh how wonderful my life would be
If I could fly so high
I'd peruse the vacant skyline
Before I take to flight
Feel the magic as the soft winds blow
As I rise up, to a soaring height
As I glide through the heavenly clouds
And gaze at the distant earth below
My freedom has never felt grander
And my soul has a peaceful, inner glow
Flying high across the valleys
The mountains, rivers and trees
Not concerned where my journey takes me
To have the freedom of “shooting the breeze”
In the distance I see a large building
It's where I'll take refuge for the night
Flying down I look for a landing
To rest my weary body, from its flight
In an instant my body jolts and I awaken
I sit up and my blood runs pale
Rubbing my eyes, I realise I've been dreaming
Oh dear God, I'm still locked up in jail!
Date Published
November 11, 2025
Lanie's Painting
By Lanie
A painting sent to us by Lanie.
Creative
ISSUE NO. 25
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1 MIN READ
Dan’s Drawing
By Dan
A drawing of Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, sent to us by Dan.
Creative
ISSUE NO. 25
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1 MIN READ
Self Reflection
By Sofia
Often I try to self-reflect which turns into waves of rings around me. This picture reflects my days in general; life is static, surrounded by waves around.
Creative
ISSUE NO. 25
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1 MIN READ
Beyond the Steel Mesh
By Anonymous
The cage stands bold, with its steel-clad mesh. For within its grip, it’s us it holds. Ten foot walls, of cold creme concrete. For outside we muster, like horses in stalls.
Creative