Freedom belongs to me as it belongs to life
Freedom implies
That, like the waves,
I can roar and rage
As much as I desire to
But like the shores,
Stoic and unmoved,
Life can spit at me,
That which it deems best
Rather than that which I tantrum for!
Freedom makes of me
That which I am
In my own individuality
While giving the rest of the world
Enough space
To accept me as I am
And to discard me if deemed not fit!
Why, freedom tastes as exquisite as menthol
Flowing down the throat
Freedom feels as pleasurable
As a cosy evening chat around a coffee
Freedom allows differences to be accepted
Scars and open sores to be kissed
Ugliness to be hugged tight
Miracles to occur for all to see
And life to tread on its own fated path!
Yet, freedom also gives life
The opportunity to choose
To tread on another path
If so does it deem best
After all, is the other name of freedom
Not known as Love?
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