To Be Free

Period.

Not the kind present

at the end of a sentence,

not the kind that

boldly sends a message.

 

But the secret kind.

Present but discreet

hidden in the trees.

Like a red apple we can all see.

 

Got it in elementary.

Remember being like why me?

Wanted to run up that tree

And throw the fruit into the sea.

 

Treated like a disease,

If we have it then don’t speak.

Like don’t we all bleed?

Then why am I not free?

 

Had to teach myself to be free.

Remember to not be discreet,

remember that we all bleed.

Its a normal part of me.

 

A normal part of we.

And if we were to be free

had to start with me

then so should it be.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

Comments

PowerPoetryIntern2019

Great poem! I love the way you play with the different meanings of the word period.

angelanjenga1

Thank you. This poetry thing is kind of new to me and I was very nervous to upload my document so your support is greatly appreciated!

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