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Freedom Narrative Poems | Narrative Poems About Freedom

These Freedom Narrative poems are examples of Narrative poems about Freedom. These are the best examples of Freedom Narrative poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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The Meadow

I'm always there, in that place that doesn't mean a thing to anyone but me. A far away 
meadow where I don't have to hide all the happiness of a young girls heart. One that has 
been ripped apart, so many times. I stare at all the beautiful flowers and trees of my 
surroundings and let the wind gently rustle my hair. I close my eyes taking in all these 
wonderful things, as I lie on the cool grass. My body mixes in with the air, and I'm blowing 
past natures statues and creatures galore. I stop at the edge of a nearby pond, my body 
floating softly to the ground as an eagles feather. I look deep into the sparkling image that 
makes me who I am. I gracefully touch the water with my fingertips and let the water 
shimmer like the stars. A white unicorn grazing near the freshly harvested hay, called out to 
me. It approached me as I stood, and nuzzled my arm. I brushed its silk coat and burrowed 
my face against her cool cheek. This is the reason I come to this place. To interact with the 
things not known or believed in their world. Its just my own, my sound and the behind 
scenes of my eyes. It's calm and peaceful, which their world is far from. I'm the only one with 
the doorway to this meadow. I love going there, it's like a blanket that warms its comfort 
over me when I need it the most. And when I get there, my feelings are a boat sailing to 
sea, leaving me filled with perfect serenity. I'll always be there, till the end of all life, and I 
know this lovely meadow will never be replaced.


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Satan Rules

Speak, and be heard, let those feelings be set free,
our God given right, I once heard, freedom for you, and me.

Look at the picture, some paint covered in clouds,
isn't it our right, to speak out loud?

History in high school, was taught with pride,
now all those Americans we studied about, have long died.

With them went hope, and a chance of equality,
these are the things they fought for, not selfish greed.

The Pledge of Allegiance we said everyday,
and everyone stood, as the words were said.

The Constitution was studied, and reports were made,
in front of the class the next day, we would stand up, and say.

All our freedoms that were given to us,
now narrowing down,  "help,"  who do we trust.

A prayer was given, with our heads humbly bowed,
using our freedom of speech, we thanked God out loud.

Everything has changed, now we worry about safety in schools,
shootings, perverts, and God was evicted, now Satan rules.


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Just for Me

In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away


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Noises in my head

Unless you understand ,
What it's like to have noises inside your head 
Loud sometimes buzzing ,always keeping beat.
They say to have tinnitus is temporary you see
But when I have these noises, they envelop me.               

Lose my concentration, 
Cannot sit and think.
Want them to stop buzzing. 
Like cicadas on a tree. 
Constantly building intensity and force.

I feel that there will come a day
When I stand some where and scream
Tell each and ever person
To remove the sounds I hear
For once nothing would be good.

I know it's my condition
To listen every day 
To buzzing crackling noises
That never go away.
If I'm lucky they diminish. 

There not as loud as some
Days that had me crying
Wanting just to run
This is my affliction 
I battle every day. 

Because I let a surgeon
Roto root my head
He was supposed to fix my sinus
Not turn on headphones
Buzzing every day. 




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A Land Bearing Green White Green

Which way leads to the 
land of green white 
green?
Which way are we 
heading?
   A country the wicked 
bears the rulership, and 
the people sighing 
continuously.
   A terrible thing sprouts 
beneath the sun: a 
pregnant woman 
delivering not.
Imps come to lime-light 
by snuffing air from the 
goose that laid the 
golden eggs.
The blind guiding the un
blind.
The weak suppressing 
the strong-a terrible 
thing.
Like the overthrow of the 
gods at Mt. Olympus by 
the Titans.
A country where also 
thieves appear as men of 
integrity.
Land of green white 
green,which way?
A land where the 
enlightened ones are 
overshadowed and 
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that 
eat the crumbs.
 Which way to go you 
Land?
Iliterates stand on 
podium of power 
bellowing orders as milk 
of sorrow known as 
dividends of democracy 
is passed around.
The machine of progress 
manned by the 
unproductive.
"There is better 
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white 
green,my country 
where rule of law walk 
beside anarchy.
The proles are sentenced 
to adversity,and there 
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People 
dancing on thorns 
whimpering as they 
throng 
along.
  I see a new sun rising 
from the horizon,hope is 
rekindled as its rays 
grace on hopeless bodies.
 Look!! there soon be 
change!



Note: 
This 
is 
poem 
full 
of 
Nigeria 
political
 angst.


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Twelve Toes

Catawba Joe, a full blooded Crow, married a cute as a button little Eskimo.
She bore him a son who had twelve toes and an elongated nose.
They named their little bouncing bundle of joy Curly Joe Twelve Toes.
After Curly Joe grew up he fought alongside Davy Crockett at the Alamo.
A Mexican shot off Curly Joe’s elongated nose, so Twelve Toes was no mo’.
The Afro-Americans amongst the brave sons of liberty said: “rest in peace bro”. 


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Eliza's Escape

 from Uncle Tom's Cabin  (See notes for story background)

The long night was not long enough; 
The new master and his hired men
Soon will come; the river rages,
The water glistens in the morning sun. 
The boat is tethered at the other side,
but water beats against the wharf
And ice blocks bob as if on ocean tide.

The child sleeps. I can but wait,
For merchants traveling to and fro
Will need to reach Kentucky’s shore;
I dare not rest when freedom is so close.
But hark! The men are in the street;
I fear one saw me in the window—
I hear the pound of booted feet.

Lord, help me, they will not take my only babe;
With the river, I’ll take my chance—
No thought. Ice bobs and sinks beneath the waves,
I leap without a backward glance.
The ice seems not so slippery
I leap and leap and leap again
God gives me purchase—we will be free!

The last frozen block sinks beneath 
My numbéd feet. I toss my child to the ground
And lunge—gripping grass midst mud and sleet,
The river roars behind, a deafening sound.
 But o’er my head—an open hand,
A heav’n sent soul, my babe held in his arms—
A chance at freedom in an angry land.


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My Story Telling Can You Trust Me

Gun fire all around, bombs going off in the distance
It was some of the angry mobs and resistance
Father was the king of SafeHaven a small kingdom
Like all other kingdoms it fell in random
Fire started in the castle
And along with it came a battle

It was a distance memory now because the child has now grew
Many things in this child that made memories stew
My name is Mastrey, a young orphan who was there that night
Mastrey saw her in the distance and her father and mother in his sight
Everyone was loud that night and made all the children hide
But that evening Mastrey saw her mother and father die

She ran into the bushes in such a fright
And evil doers were running around with flashlights
Mastrey remember it as he distracted them 
Her eyes was so confused with problems
Mastrey new that it was because of what just occurred
His feelings of what those people did was not awkward

The distraction worked, he went back to were she was
Hiding and very scared she was, he asked her, can you trust me just because?
Her answer that night depended on her lively hood
As Mastrey was their with his hand reaching out to her as he stood
Pulling her up from the ground he looked into her eyes that were SeaBlue
Mastrey had made a life long friend and love, She knew it was true

Next: My Story Telling,  Who is this Princess


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My Story Telling Who is this Princes

The night air made her feel tired
As she looked out side all the fences were wired
In the distance she hears crowds yelling
As she was to young to know they were rebelling
Father she asked where are we going?
Mother said to keep quiet and keep walking

Mother yelled in the night air
Father gave out a blank stare
They yelled run my princess run as far as you can
As that moment past her little feet pushed off and she ran
She ran to the nearest bushes and crawled into it to hide
She never smelled the air before as if someone just had died

As she lay on the ground under a bush she heard 
A loud yell in the distance almost to absurd
My name is Angelica, I am just a young girl who does not know 
Angelica just wants to live her life with help to grow
Angelica did not know what just happened she notice a figure in the distance
A little person just like her, a strong but gentle presence

Angelica saw the people who were shouting run off toward the voice
She was scared and she knew that she had to make a choice
Angelica fragile state was so confused and lost
She knew it will take burden on her at a cost
But in that moment of quietness a young but strong voice called out
Can you trust me just because? will you come with me with no doubt

My Story Telling  Together In A Strange World


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African Sparrow

A sign of courage
Upon your stead

You let me lead
Through your own strength

I love your grace
Your peace warm embrace

I long for the caress
That you’re every thought brings

A set of harmony only heaven bound
I seek a refuge only your light brings

The loving kindness you so give
Ever so freely I honor you

By honoring me


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A missive from the damned to whoever have a little time to spend with this nonsense - Page 1

And so, I have made up my mind, once more.
I have decided to depart, to bid this husk farewell.
In order to do that, I must save coins if I desire to save myself.
For with it, I will be able to buy my ticket out here to a more blessed realm or the eternal void. Either way, I will be winning.
I mustn't, any longer, feel the starvation of affection and no more I shall be fed by the crumbs of fleeting joy they toss at me.

Thoughts of finishing are always in my mind, flooding it, making hard to go day by day, making hard to sleep, to have hope.
I fail to see where the hope is, I like to think that it can be find inside of one's heart.
But even so, I think I am mistaken, and when I glance at myself in the mirror, I quickly lose any spark of what could-be hope.

With the aid of the metallic sling, I shall leave this husf behind, heavy with its sins and sorrows, to no more nourish hatred.
For it does only to hinder my advance towards elevation.
With my metallic sling, I shall pierce, first, my heart, where lies the sorrow, then, my mind, where resides the sins.
Whilst the life in me start to wane, regrets I will not have, when my consciousness fade, my spirit will be no longer be trapped inside this imperfect cage of flesh.
Being free, my spirit shall roam far and beyond to, before, unseen places by men, to  untouched places by men.

Another day,someone inquired me "Are you happy now?" and for that I just said "Yes". How else could I have responded if not with a lie?
How could I tell them that I yearn for a premature closure in order to stop thinking and feeling but I also yearn for love.
"I am not absolutely happy, as per say, but I do suffer less when I am asleep" I could never say that to anyone...


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Steel Bars

Tried to trace this man, 
studied the case and had my plan, 
a soul is whispering from somewhere
asking for help, I said, back off !!!

But a call is a call
it searches my soul and being, 
then found myself doing it
i must say, back off to this man! 

Met him and succeeded 
invited me to his place, we proceeded, 
as I enter his great place
full of goons, must I back off from it? 

No...! 

He offered a drink as he mixed, 
he went for a while to change his shirt, 
so when he came back and drink his piece, 
Alas! 10minutes, he went off asleep! 

Traced the walls for possible passage, 
and I have found where she was a savage
I hurriedly searched for the lock and there I found
hanging at the back of her life size portrait in grief profound! 

I ease to unlock by the key I got
and quickly lift her up, help her to get up
we walked pass by the sleeping monster
tried cautiously to escape away from there.

Damn, he is awake! 

He advanced to kick
threw it hard so quick
too glad I managed
to kick back in a glimpse! 

I reached my gun, hidden on my waistline, 
Aimened vigorously, with authority
Stay where you are! 
Back off !!!

He tied her up, 
used her for his cover-up, 
urging needs of flesh he had...
Damn man, back off !!!

Two years she wept for pain
asked mercy from this man but in vain, 
she almost lost her mind and gave up her soul...
Spare her, back off !!!

Caught between the crossfire
of ravaging flame of bonfire heat, 
Burnt her skin like hell...
Back off !!! 

He tried to get up, moved forward, 
I have to trigger the gun, 
I said, "Come on, and you'll be gone!" 
Back off !!!

And bullet is heard, ripping his left leg, 
fell down to the floor, he cried and beg
"Daughter, I love you so much, don't let her do this! 
help me, tell her back off please!"

Bull****! 

I almost killed the man! 
Yes, why not? I can do it! 
But I controlled, called backups
I will never back off to this fight! 

I saw her weep loudly, her life was a mess
Damn to this vulture who eats his own flesh! 
He deserve a bullet on his head, don't you think? 
Ruining his daughter's life, he must be thrown in hell! 

Flesh to flesh, blood to blood
Is it easy to back off and just let this pass? 
No way! How dare anyone would say: 
Back off, Carole, stop and never look back! 

No, no, no, no, no! 

He must pay his crime, I swear he must die! 
But I am not a killer, 
nor a hunter but I would lie, 
If I don't admit I wanted him to burn in hell and die! 

Then I turned my back, let them get him
Turned him over, trembling with anger
He must be thrown into steel bars
let him pay what he has done, for years...

Steel bars, keep this man! 

Inner Whispers

(dedicated to the victims of sex slavery and incest)


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How Do I Stay Soulful

How do I stay soulful, without seeming like a raging goddess?
I would always be the raging sea,
Don’t sail your boats or ships upon my waters!
 Expected to be slaughters, by my sharks
 The rough waves: and the haunted ghost slaves.
 You toss abroad, unlike the garage you scattered on my shore,
I kept your secrets; at the bottom of ocean floor

I sting your eyes, and bitter your taste:
 Rock your ships from side to side
Yet, you smuggle my fish out to land: 
    what a disgrace!
A man would always be a man

 Why did you leave the dry land and sail the ocean blue
You pirate! You luxury ocean liners: you liars
Can you hold on to my waters? 
The laughter takes hold of you.
I filled myself with rage, because of the things you do

No safety nets……

, 


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The effect of predictability

When man reaches perfection in any area want to chaos. 
Why feel hostage to the predictability
that will give a sense of lack of free will of his ideas,
because a full understanding of the law governing an argument-event. 
So for the perfect thing, man will put imperfection 
to return the imprecise nature of the facts that surround it.


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Stage Fright or Stage Might

Sitting on stage
The glare of the audience immobilizes my every move
Is there a way this paralysis will soothe?
The lights suddenly blare
Like a deer bathed in headlights
How can I escape from this radiant bear?

The conductor baton rises into the soundless air
Sweating, stammering, shivering
Will this be my final prayer?

The sound of an A fires from a clarinet
Bow on string, I imitate the shrill
This magical note seems to be my fever pill

A-D, D-G, A-E
Instrument seems in tune
But will this miniscule fact solve my problem soon?

As the chief baton swings side to side
Flickering images in my mind crash like a tsunami tide
Joy, Love, Hardship, and Harmony
Music conducted the opening to my passion ceremony

Fire ignites my being
Like bungee-jumping off a bridge
The words “Anything is possible!” now beaming

Like poetry, music is an art
Raw emotion strangles uniformity
Expression bears no limit
Creativity beats as our vital body part

*This poem is dedicated to a cure for stage fright (bless those poor souls)
-M&M


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I SHALL NEVER SURRENDER

Whether it be foreign country or terrorists that attack our land,
I will fight them on the beaches on the streets and from my home.
If necessary I will retreat to the foothills and then to the mountains,
Still I will never raise white flag to those who would steal my freedom.

AS GOD IS MY WITNESS!!

I SHALL NEVER SURRENDER!!

Having been a knight on ancient past battlefields,
This soldier knows no fear of any enemy!!



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For Our American Indians

                  Peace be to all humankind
                   We are each unique also amazing, modest,
                           so why turn us into their image
                Indians American at that, Proud, unassimilated

        Unable to destroy a way of life, for white cultural patterns
          ‘how’ we evolved, they believe we should be contented
            like those whose concept of happiness is materialistic,
            greedy, which is very different from our way satisfied,

         Peaceful with what has been done, establishing something
          or a way things are, we wanted freedom from white man,
             rather than to be integrated, part of an establishment
            to be able to hunt, fish also live in peace, was our plan

            Only wanted to be free to raise our children in our ways,
            we didn't want power, we didn't want to be congressmen,
                      or bankers....we wanted to be ourselves
                                               American Indians


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RED WHITE and BLUE - dedicated to OLD GLORY

First time I saw them all together,
They were waving at me from old glory.
Never saw so many stars before that day either;
There were a lot of nights I saw more yet not as close.

Ripples of freedom met my eyes that sunny afternoon;
That special piece of cloth transfixing a little boy's mind,
Finding later that heroes had kept her flying all along.
Watching now as evil ones try to burn her down.

Problem is they'll have to torch every liberty loving heart,
Now that task will not be a simple one to accomplish.
Ever tried to lock up a spirit and keep it there?
No colors in any rainbow have ever flown brighter.

Even with the many faults that have creased her fabric,
She still soars freer above those who would bring her down.
This flag which once mesmerized that five year old boy,
Wraps around this man now in an embrace that won't let go.


Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved

"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."

© 2014 Robert William Gruhn



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Osmosis

Autopilot tired
broken wings
sore in soaring flight
fluttering, down-spiral 
clouds streaming beyond fog 
drowsy
then, 
three barrel rolls
swirling through silver light
simulcast storm shakes black topsoil
mineral enriched,
vitamins collide,
seep through porous skin
providing synthesized eruptions
cataclysmic spasms drop knowledge undetected by erudition
 
Thick walls wobble, crack, then begin to close in on the thin skull
a metaphysical transformation manifests 
three!
three!
threes permeate 
preserving Oblivion...
 
Earth, moon, stars
proton, neutron, electron, 
mother, father, child

Fertile land dissolves for the horizon
turquoise soaks toes
and so 
an enigmatic awakening 
idle imagination swiftly shifts gears here
from stationary stone 
to being thrown through the moon
effervescent agitation bubbling oceans strewn
triggering intensity
tridimensional trepidation 
sleet sheets pelt clipper ships

Parochial, no longer the vision
mood scoots through sinister to happy-go-lucky 
three grim blankets lift from melodramatic souls

This mighty universe revolves
aflame with AGAPE...

                                         (*sappy to sophisticated)
The final oscillation 


©2014 ~JSL PoetTreez Publishing


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A Reformed Daughter of the USA


Perhaps it was a bit of old moral Navy nostalgia misting from Dad's brow as he taught us moral just rule.
At times in my life, honoring my father and mother; one of the ten commandments-- a must though it seemed when my father passed when I was a teen was the hardest thing to do. Living with these regrets of sin, and my uncle Bink introduced a slow gin fizz over dinner with my Aunt, to ease the tension of not shedding a grieving tear the day he passed or after. After all, the veterans were at the casket and someone had to represent.

Living in sin, leaving the foothills of Appalachia at the age of sixteen (not more than six months after I talked to God in that cornfield and was so angry with Him for taking my father when he needed to be here to protect me).  I set out on my long journey to see the world and need and come back to serve Him (was my only hope) when in fact, my highest scores of the states district Sat's were repelling from a C average grade school girl. 
Dad said on his dying bed he wanted me to be a nurse, or rather as the “humanitarian” I became at eighteen; perhaps someones distraught, personal nurse.

The three children, two of which were planned by a Common Law husband. I was a responsible, nurturing mother and wife. Perhaps, it is what held my emotions together after all the drunken beating he offered up.  It seemed as though emotionally  I could not do anything by myself. Tattered and scattered was I.

Dad taught my brother and I old school military boxing; my brother three years older and touched with the fever (a crying little girl not wanting to hit my brother at first) I excelled to a losing champion, still today. I never won a fight with a man, and that includes two officers I seriously accidentally hit in reflex order.

Today, I know my writing is a gift.
I know motherhood is a gift as well as being a daughter of my dear Mom that is frail now at 80. I somehow don't measure up and shall never to her just honesty always paying her bills on a limited income, before they are ever due.
Murmurs etched in my heart and soul, of a common advice from her frantic yet stern voice, “You'll never make anything of yourself with that writing; as my pen steadily purges and flows a steam of blood rights of an United States Citizen, on Veterans Day.
When will my ship come in? (perhaps it was pirated, and sent with the barges of plagiarist  rhyme, sold off by a romantic)

 Here's to the rich and famous that can't pass through the of a needle-- as I light a Camel Wide, and pray for them all a rich blessing.


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The Sea Blue Eyes I

Once in a while I meet a person whose eyes tell their story
The story is like the sky reflection on the seas of glory
The eyes are all the wonder of the world
It sees the future, past, and present
The eyes give us knowledge of the world and reflection
The reflection of sadness and weakness of each creature
The wonder of each individual being has a present
To the world who has lots of false images
To arise the moment of that one glance
To follow the heart in romance
Just the reflection that gather in your eyes of blue
What a man and a woman should view
Life is such a pain without stopping to see each eyes
Its like roses you have to enjoy each passion in side
When that moment collides with mind and heart
Nothing in your soul can keep your love apart
Join in the fun look in every eyes of a person beside
With passion and romance I bet you, you would cry
The luster of all the things to come
A bounty of life long needs to be given by just the wonders of the eyes
The blue seas reflects the different depths of our feelings
And it should become revealing
Come to your senses with ravaging hormones of lust
The sea can take you and even the reflection in the eyes of the person
The beauty is not held by one it is held by everyone
Such looks with fear for no relief
Is almost a dreadful part in our human nature
Beware of what can happen when emotions are held
Held to the core of an individual
No such thing is kindness when you find yourself in the Sea Blue Eyes
Calling in your soul by just looking
With ignorance you play around with such futile emotion
Gush away the fear and do not go insane with life so dear
The grasp of the titans comes to reveal
The evil within your heart is so obscenely noticed
You want the sea and you want those eyes to look at you with wishes
The rage in the heart are waves that cannot stop 
It pushes and pushes with no regret
The heart falters and there is only one thing in your mind
The idea of one soul to be with is the ocean 
The rifts that is trying to break to end the wants of desire
Cannot be trusted in a human lier
The beauty of man is destruction 
The beauty of women are commands
The eyes of each does not matter in the sea
Because all emotion and desire is given to those who are true
Command of a person is just one thing 
The desire to destroy is another
The Sea Blue Eyes will see no bother cause it bares it all
Even the utmost desire
To be continue.


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Freedom Is Sweet

Running through the wilderness
Brushing past the trees and leaves
I know at this moment
That I am finally living my dreams

I cry tears of happiness
Because this is the freedom I have missed
I climb a tree as high as the sky
When I reach the top I feel like I can fly

I climb back down and begin to run
Loving freedom it is so much fun
I reach a river and fall on my knees
This is my bliss, freedom is sweet...


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Imagine

If all the things I have right now were taken away and I had nothing left I would fantasize about nature and how beautiful it is. I would imagine that I was swinging on an old tire swing in front of a river. In the river were little ducks and I would go feed them. In my life right now I don’t think of nature that way. I think if my freedom was taken away I wouldn’t take it for granted the way I do and I would know how much it actually means to me. I would also imagine my family getting together for my family reunion. We would usually have them in September. My aunt would make her fancy white cake topped with chocolate drizzle. My grandma always made her jello cake; I still don’t know exactly how she makes it. The others would bring KFC, at least three boxes full of chicken and fries. All the kids would sit together and play games and laugh as we threw food at one another. We would have a game where the kids lined up from age 1 to age 13 and you would get to pick a prize appropriate for your age. I would always get stuck with bath soap and tooth brushes.I take a lot of ordinary things for granted and I think a lot of people do but they won’t admit it. Sometimes I even take life and my freedom for granted. I think that if maybe we wouldn’t take things for granted like the trees or our freedom that maybe our lives would be a lot better and things wouldn’t happen the way they do. I have lived long enough to know that it won’t happen, nothing happens the way you want it to. Just a few months ago I lost my grandma and I couldn’t do anything to help her. I took all of the things she did for granted and now that she’s gone I miss her. She used to make this tuna casserole, it was just amazing but I never told her just how much she meant to me. I think if I would have told her that more then I wouldn’t feel so guilty or depressed that she is gone. I never told her what I needed to. If people could use the words of John Lennon “Imagine Peace” and actually think about it then maybe the world wouldn’t have to end because there wouldn’t be any enemies, murders, drugs, none of the bad things would have happened. If we could have just accepted everyone around us for who they are and known that one day we all have to die, we could have stepped back from it all and said I had a good life and I don’t regret any of it. I think it’s no good to step back from something and tell yourself that you could have done something to prevent it.


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Freedom before my lost brother

Freedom before my lost brother

They march before the rising sun with guns at six
We stand before sun down with signs of freedom

Who really marches to the same drum? 
When my hand have been blown off for beat
The beat, the beat, the beat

As he races from the explosion of freedom in his chest
For freedom
To escape this tide of hate
That swept us slaves of red, white and blue

And he is nothing like before when hate took him away
He is a man at six and we are still children as adult
War took my hands and feet I am no solider
I fight for freedom not money
You fight so this tide will not cross-oceans and sands

We fight here for food and light
And light, to breathe, to die for family
Across the ocean hand my son an ak-47
And he will march and kneel before God for forgiveness

Hand my brother a ruger and he will stand in the shadows for American greed
Greed in the land of freedom and hope, black in the shadows
And mother can mend wounds here across the oceans she can only dial 
Extensions..... 
Of relief
Mother over there must know how to be doctor and surgeon, and warrior for the 
Next 
Generation to survive, to live

We cannot procreate; we are the ends of mankind
With bombs in the hands of babies
To extend our left hand of hate across the ocean, across towers of hope

We must all be the same here a million mile from each other
My skin dictates that I hate, be hated, I rape, be raped
I bleed red, white and blue
Watching in shock, disbelief as red, white and blue goes up in flames in the 
Ashes of the wind just like you

Freedom can never come to me here before her with that torch 
My mother across  the ocean must be sending me a package of death to kill my 
four father
Your four father because my complexion means that no one can see me
 I am a lost brother, forgotten sister 
 Hated child with no hands, no hands in freedom

March me before television cameras, signs of peace, and words of love
I am still a lost brother............ before truth
But you knoe me so well..
From the the same box that caused my cousins in your land to be hung
Money means nothing here, Money means every thing beside her with the torch
Pass it to me so I may freedom---the truth


Details | Narrative | |

Fight for Freedom

Fight for what is right
and our freedom…

No dictators or magistrates,
just simple democracy, the 
spirit of the people…

For freedom is priceless 
and nothing quite compares…

We must all fight for the 
right to be free, to protect 
and keep it, for us our children, 
there children and all the 
generations to come…

Fight to protect our freedom
to the end, for freedom is
worth a fight…

By Sandra L. Hoban
©2004