Bradley Smith Poet Free verse

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

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