Give me freedom
In the mystery of irony
I have no liberty
Not even in my country
I grieve as sorrows breathe in my nostril.
Sadness pushes me to speak
But still fear grips me
The color of my skin
Shouldn't distinguish me.
I am dropping the tears of a slave
My spirit gale in rave
My blood standing still in my vein
And my soul melts on the sigh of my grave.
Droplets of rain beating my zinc
My tears cage in a box of misery
My inner sanctum knees in confusion and Freedom has become my biggest depression.
I have submitted myself in their deceit
Happiness has become my nightmare
Loneliness has become my motivation
No words to describe my intention
The days of tyrannies are over
Loose me from the bundles of terror.
Hold my hand as I enter in the city of freedom.
Where love and peace rest in man's bosom.
Copyright © Bob K Queminee | Year Posted 2020