[spoken word poem] What if we were free to be Without the chains of society To laugh, to sing To plan for things To guide our future into being The product of our heart's desire Manifestations of an eternal fire That's burned in us for all our years But suppressed over time by imagined fears Till all the Light which once we shone Is dimmed and faded from our throne Of freedom's gift A right bestowed From birth when it was given us What happened to our living trust? Is life no more than a conforming knit With a pattern to fill And a role to fit? How can creation fulfill it's dream If all we are is an endless stream Of yes men and women With heads hung low Exhausted by relentless blows? "Do this, do that" Or "No, you shan't" "This you can, but this you can't" Can we not see where this all leads And agree to it's futility? I care not what others think of me Or how my final truth's perceived But I know this, till my last breath... Give me freedom, or give me death! [end of spoken word poem]
