Karen May Songs, Art & Poetry
Free Speech

Free Speech

There is freedom of thought
Which I ought
To express
More or less
In a word
To be heard
When I can
As I am
When I feel
And I steal
What is done
To become
But a verse
Nothing worse
Can that be?
Nothing’s free
What’s the price
Of this nice
Little prize
In the guise
Of what’s good
As it should
Seem to be
But to those
Who it chose
For its task
Didn’t ask
Just came in
To begin
Making holes
In the souls
Of us all
Who would fall
To be prey
Every day
To a raw
Central core
To a heart
That can’t part
From the sorrow
Of tomorrow
Who they are
And how far
They must go
When they know
What it takes
How it breaks
How it tears
No one cares
When they see
In a line
In a rhyme
From a voice
With no choice
But to write
Day and night
Words that sting
Words that bring
Once forgotten
Of emotion
And a notion
To expand
All the lines
And confines
A profusion
Of confusion
And calamity
This insanity
Comes and goes
And what grows
In its trail
Is a frail
Thread of thoughts
That was taught
To be grown
To be sown
To be nourished
To flourish
And to seed
Food to feed
To provide
What we hide
Seen as sin
From within
Our creation
Our damnation
Cold and naked
Only ask
For our task
Your consent
To invent
Ways to cope
With no hope
Of reprieve
Let us breathe
And endure
Something pure
So that we
May be free?

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