The Sweet Song

What is freedom. Is it a divided nation. Blinded by corruption and prejudice. Clothed in ignorance and self-interest. What is justice. Is it a hypocritical system. Built on the backs of the oppressed. Whose perpetual cries tore through the levels of heaven. What is hope. Is it a stumbling people. Who thought not of their posterity. Filled with greed and power. Yet thirsting for even more. But I tell you freedom is playful youth. Dancing in fields of tulips and daffodils. With no mind for the future and no care for the past. Justice is a forgiven perpetrator. Whose wrongs were lifted like heavy chains. And cast into a devouring darkness. And hope is the sweet song. A child yet within a mother's womb dances to, steadily swaying to its knowing rhythm.





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