My Hand Carved Freedom
I once traced the shape of liberty-
Turning a blind eye to the smudges of ignorance.
By a pit of quicksand I dance,
Adrenaline barely keeping me above and balanced.
The ocean surface that once lifted me high became the same one to bid me sweet goodbye.
It's then I realized; freedom comes in varying shapes and sizes,
What once was euphoria would soon turn
into my source of distress.
Freedom never states its price.
It never will, eternally uncertain like a dice.
Yet those with it abuse it,
Akin to how an arrogant tyrant would sit.
Belittling the pauper and ill starred,
almost like their pride makes them compelled.
What can be done shan't always be done,
Doing so would only create problems better off not having begun.
In the back of my head, I color my faults,
To humble myself and remember I too have mistakes to right.
After all, imperfection is our default,
Freedom is what's just, it's what makes human life such a sight.
