Far away within a circumcised brain
Regimented by unsanctified words
Endured an idea with ball and chain
Enveloped in less than half-truths and thirds
Death was circling like a flock of vultures
Open to interpretation yet pure
Messing up left and right within cultures
Fencing in too many souls as a cure
Release us from our primitive bondage
Entertain us with papier-mâché bombs
Earth still contains reasons for a sondage
Depicting who we were before our qualms
O freedom thou art a traitor feeling
Myriads died for you often kneeling
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Dedicated to freedom to feel free in the middle of a storm.
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Jon Batiste - Freedom
About the Creator
Patrick M. Ohana
A medical writer who reads and writes fiction and some nonfiction, although the latter may appear at times like the former. Most of my pieces (over 2,200) are or will be available on Shakespeare's Shoes.
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