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January 2002 Poetry America is said to be the land of the free and the home of the brave. But what is free? To me, free is a feeling. To feel safe. To feel as though, you have rights. To feel free. But are people really free? How can you be free when you can’t even walk down a crowded city street without having the fear of being shot? Or be a teenage girl, or any woman for that matter, and having to constantly watch your back for fear of being touched or raped? How can you be free when people look at the color of your skin for acceptance? And God forbid any two people of different color skin, having a relationship and showing their faces in society. How can this be free when you can’t even feel safe in school, at home, are anywhere else? Free is having no control or domination over another. So why is it a white man can get a job over a black man when both are equally qualified? Why do we have to fear for our lives in our own homes? We are too busy fearing for our lives rather than living them. If we are so free and not controlled, why do laws state that you can’t drive until 16 years of age? Or vote at 18? Drink at 21? So you are telling me this isn’t control. They claim we have privacy rights as citizens. Yet satellites are monitoring every phone conversation we have. The government is watching everything you purchase or sell. But remember, we’re free. It’s sad that the color of our skin can determine our lives and how they are. Yes, we may have more freedom than most countries. We can speak our minds on the governments, the president, and we have no religious control over us. But how can you tell me, that we are really free? When instead of living, I’m fearing. You tell me. How am I free?
~*~ Jill ~*~
