Fools gold
Free but trapped, a promise kept but unkept,what we know as free is not free at all. Conformed mines plague the growth of life as we know it. No one is safe, from the corruption that slithers between the flowers of hope slowly poisoning it's caretakers. Seekes of truth are silenced. They clipped the bird's wings telling it it's not okay to fly. Real freedom lies somewhere we never look between the line of reality and fantasy, that's where I want to be. This is the cry of all the trapped souls looking past the pyrite prison.
This poem is about:
Me
My community
My country
Our world