What is Freedom?
Is Freedom, having the right to do something? Like having the right to remain silent,
the right to contain the wrangle that might just save that minute,piteous thing
you call a life.
If you were to let loose that wrangle,
they would turn it against you,
as the needle injected into the side of a pup’s confined leg, to see if “Ruby Red” is truly your color.
Maybe Freedom is the “Authority” freeing us of our money... Their green-tinted pedestal is only comfortable
when you are not crushed beneath it,
gasping for pennies and dimes.
We pledge allegiance to a flag smeared
with the contents of a twinkie,
the blue eyes of the pure ones,
and dripping with the blood of warriors past. They were the ones who meant their allegiance and were willing to brave the harsh cruelties of war, only to arrive at a purple field of what has yet to come. Death.
Is Freedom love?
Oh, but of course only between the fair skinned man and woman, who say grace before they dine
and produce unimaginative, drone offspring.
Offspring that do what ever they please,
just to feel alive.
This is not Freedom, this is NOT Freedom! Freedom is acceptance in the purest of ways. So this is not the land of the free,
but the land of the tame.