It’s a strange thing, we think we are free but how free are we really? When you start to think about it we are restricted in so many ways. Things we have to do to be accepted in society, restrictions put on us by governments telling us how we should live our lives. Religion with it’s rituals not forgetting the greedy claws of the capitalists who brainwash us into believing we need this and that. These are the things I was thinking about when I wrote this poem.
Freedom, what does it mean?
Surely, freedom doesn’t exist for you and me.
It is an illusion, a cruel joke,
for in this life, we are never truly free.
In this society that binds us in chains,
we are told we are free to choose our destiny.
But society dictates the routes we must take.
so how can we say that we are truly free?
A prison doesn’t have to have bars
or a warden, with many a jangling key.
It can be the schoolroom or place of work,
so please don’t tell us we are truly free.
In this world we are slaves to the system
and to the Governments that be,
to religion and the voice of the media;
no; we shall never be free.
But then, when I meditate in the silence of time
and my soul is touched with the inner peace of eternity,
I soar like a bird to a place not of this world,
maybe that place is the only place, where we can be truly free. ©