Freedom Country

I’m not speaking someone’s words I don’t do somebody’s actions Neither the Commons, nor the Lords Represent my interactions Journalists can rend the air Formulating rather bluntly What I am, but I’m not there I don’t live in paper country In my country there are trees Gardens and some benches too Parks and lawns, and birds and bees People who say “I love you” Music, arts, two-storeyed mansions Ponds and rivers, cloudy skies Things that wouldn’t get a mention For the lazy reader's eyes I’ve no use in politicians That’s an awful part, isn’t it? And moreover, the ficticious Thing like ”nation” I don’t need On the side of unessentials I live carelessly free Telling you no confidentials What’s my country, they can’t see.