PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I know that freedom is not free.

It costs thousands, millions, one.

The cost could be them, you, or me.

It’s a fight that will never be won.

It has a cost.

A bullet to the head.

Knife in the chest.

How can you go to bed and rest?

I hold my head just barely over the water,

Gasping for air as the tidal waves of just knowing that people are out there

Fighting to protect the things the deem worthy and right

When there’s nothing to save.

I’m floating.

Silently knowing that there is nothing left to save.

I’m alone.

There’s truly nothing below me.

And that scares me so much it chills me to the bone.

I know this, and this alone,

That freedom is not free.

The world is going to hell

And freedom is not free.

There’s nothing below us

And freedom is not free.

Perhaps, if we take just a moment to breathe,

We can stop foaming at the mouth

And understand that our needs are different,

But our desires are the same.

We all what to be free.

Maybe, we can all see,

That if we can work together

We can achieve what we need to be free.