Freedom
Freedom is it a thought, a word, or a dream
Where can we find it
I have looked but I’ve never seen
In a rundown cabin in a place called Valley Forge
A man prays for a miracle to keep not only his men but freedom alive
Years later another man quietly stands at Gettysburg
Telling us we my bind up our wounds and leave the war behind
Rows and rows of white crosses mark the resting place of so many young
Men.
They paid the ultimate price for freedom and sadly we will not see them again
A windy January morning a young man spoke words that still come to mind
He spoke of how we could reach to the stars and beyond
Three years later sadly he too was gone
A flicker from a candle truly can light the world
This is what freedom is and though it’s silent its voice is heard
It’s the whisper of the smallest prayer
It’s the cry of those who care
Do not look for it in books for it’s not there
Look deep in you hearts for it’s there
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