As I Write My Way To Freedom

As I try to write my way to freedom I think about the pen I am in A prison built for your mind A prison made of sin This prism of light condensed We only know, what we can sense Risen though we must begin To find something deep within As I write my way to freedom. I think about the friends I had To bad that did not last I think about my spoiled past A great schism did occur What caused it though I am unsure Perhaps it was my search for freedom Perhaps it was just meant to be I tried to ask politely But that didn't work We all scream now to be free And if we are loud Just loud enough the top can here Maybe, just maybe We will be And everything will be alright