Freedom
The barbs sat on the wire
Like the swallows before winter
Cold
But they cannot fly to warmer clime
As they are bound
To sit on the wire
Trapping the inmates
In the asylum called freedom
And as we live our lives
Behind barbed-wire fences
In the belief that we are free
We have to ask, as our hateful fist clenches
Is life about us or only about me?
Copyright © Daniel Human | Year Posted 2014
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