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My Freedom

My Freedom
by Amy-Le Owens

I am trapped, miles from home and though I may have little,
And despite the fact that everyday I grow more fragile, more brittle,
I have come to posses a hope that is rare
A hope that will conquer, if I believe if I dare.

As I sit and I wait, in my cage, in my prison,
For the moment to come when justice is given,
I reach out my arms, far between the bars,
And I keep them there beneath wind rain and stars,
Because I sense that one day they will look at me and say,
"What ever were we thinking, treating them this way?"

And then they will realise, as they talk more between them,
That I do not beg for food, I only beg for freedom.

And slowly but surely the process begins
Were they right all their wrongs and abandon their sins,
And liberate my chain, return me to home,
To be content and reunited and never again alone.

But until that day comes, I shall wait in my tomb
Just remember next time that you pass me...
I do not want food as so many assume,
My freedom is all that I'm asking....


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