freedom

In the rebellion of my self-expression I am content,

The deterioration of my sanity, that expression serves to prevent.

At on with myself isolated from societies constricting feel,

I often wonder at times if freedom is truly real.

The touch of freedom so elusive that I seek to find,

Often brings to mind a notion that it is an illusion created by mind.

 

I could conclude that it is at best a simple word,

And to believe in it could be a notion simply absurd,

I seek so little of it and getting that is tough,

What I do get, well that never seems to be enough.

 

So who am I? That's irrelevant because I cannot be defined,

Society's structures of behavior do not have me confined.

With honesty can I say of society that sometimes I do not care?

Yes because the same concepts of freedom and expression we do not share.

Our whole evolution as a species, the great human race,

Has progressed only because the individual lights of freedom we strived to trace.

That is all I want, yes so very, very much,

To pursue my freedom with my own individual touch.

And if that freedom touches me with a few sorrows and pains,

Well as someone said freedom is all about the ability and right to choose our own chains.