Freedom to be free of domination and discrimination
Freedom to choose my own education without limitations
Free to love and live how I desire
Free from the tyranny of the empire
Free to go when and where
Free to not be tormented and scared
These are true freedoms not some buy one get one free or some liberties granted to me by some dead guy who sought the same freedoms as I, but somehow put a limitation on mine creating discrimination minds, freedom with limitations is not freedom at all it is the start of the downfall of the free. It is the start of our plight, freedom is not granted or given it's an inalienable right. Freedom can't be achieved through wars and a long speech or from sacrifice of men and women that bleed no don't be mistaken true freedom must be taken. We must wake up from this illusion of freedom or is it freedom is an illusion and we will never be free the only thing free is the dream of freedom, then we must live free, dream free, love freely until we are free of this world only then will we be truly free.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Runaway Slave and writers in Poets and other communities.
Cor Autem Mortis
Lend me your ears and eyes and I'll weave you a tale of love and lies. Recite a verse rehearsed by the broken-hearted memories of the dearly departed stolen moments from souls unguarded. Speak the language of the loveless make you love this poetic dream catcher written words scream at you what if I did let you see my secret garden would you pardon my heart that's harden would you read the words inscribed on the stone where our story died fountains filled with tears of those who cried from grief would you seek relief or would your visit be brief like our story now his story only to be whispered in memory remember we shared pages in a book written for all ages now we share distance in this instance you and I are no longer didn't kill me just made my love for you stronger
By Runaway Slave6 years ago in Poets
TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
By Elizabeth Butler4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.