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