What It Is To Be Free

Not many see, What it is to be free. What it is to amount, To make every day count. Everything has a story, Though the place your at you say is boring. There's more behind this rundown town. From the highest mountian, To the streets unfound. Where children once played, And by their side their parents stayed. Where the sky may not shine as bright, But to every darkness there's light. Where the creature's of the world find home, While your complaining that the air's too cold. When you're strong, it shows, Planing each day as it goes. Smiling and helping whoever you can, Instead of moping about how much you hate this land. You can't change the way the trees sway, You can't change what's already gone away. But the beauty of the world can take you in, Make you see beauty like you should have when your life began. When you start to appreciate the little things, Like the crickets chirping, And the songs birds sing. You'll find all you needed has been there all along, Only then you'll see where happiness comes from. If to see is to believe, Then there's belief all around. From the starry night sky, To the flowers on the ground. So many find pleasure in all the wrong things, Humanity has overcome, Yet still falls apart at the seams. We're so focused in on money and gold, Before we know it our life has no meaning, Our skin becomes cold. It's never too late, And you're never too near or far. To make the best of things, And be happy where you are.