Freedom Is Not a Box
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Poetry
Freedom has been likened
To a bird, a plane, a song,
It has been once personified
As a road that’s very long.
Freedom has been likened
To people: from war, death, or insanity,
To others it is being absolved
From rules for eternity.
Freedom has been likened
To doing whatever you please,
The moment Morgan Freeman finds that box
Under the big oak tree.
Freedom can be political
Ceased oppression, locks, and chains,
A nation’s struggle to move away
From colonialism’s gains.
On a Sunday morning, I see my brother.
In the walls of a correctional centre
All dressed up in green,
And seeing his smiling face for me
Is a feeling oh so free.
When he is released
I will be there – hand outstretched and seeing
That freedom is not a place, a box, a road,
But lives in his entire being.
Freedom has been likened
To a bird, a plane, a song,
It has been once personified
As a road that’s very long.
Freedom has been likened
To people: from war, death, or insanity,
To others it is being absolved
From rules for eternity.
Freedom has been likened
To doing whatever you please,
The moment Morgan Freeman finds that box
Under the big oak tree.
Freedom can be political
Ceased oppression, locks, and chains,
A nation’s struggle to move away
From colonialism’s gains.
On a Sunday morning, I see my brother.
In the walls of a correctional centre
All dressed up in green,
And seeing his smiling face for me
Is a feeling oh so free.
When he is released
I will be there – hand outstretched and seeing
That freedom is not a place, a box, a road,
But lives in his entire being.
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