I see a dove, a dove without its wings,

Like it cannot fly, one cannot be free, 

And so my heart inquisitively sings,

What is the freedom that one can agree?

For possessing not freedom is what feeds:

the thirst for freedom that persuades to seek;

opportunity would satisfy creeds;

But it is not as simple as to speak,

Though I honestly would wish it to be;

Freedom’s not found or taken but received,

For alas, freedom’s not something that’s free,

Which means that it can only be achieved,

For when we attain freedom we excel, 

And have the greatest gift to be ourselves.