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 |   A journal to keep track of my poetic thoughts. |
Shackles of shame bounded my thoughts, but then I learned to read, to ask, to persuade and to convince. Freedom was not mine yet, just a dream was born. Wisps of their wishes dictated my future but then I learned to earn— money, my respect and my home. Freedom was not mine yet, just a life was initiated. Gilded cage of traditions kept me captive, but then I learned to see— the blue sky beyond and the green grasslands. Freedom was not mine yet, just a thread of way was formed. Expectations of family tied me to the wall, but then I learned to flutter those wings, little by little, inch by inch. Freedom was not mine yet, but a flight was borne. The cage, shackles, the ties still exist, but I learned to compromise, and to make them compromise. Freedom is still not mine yet, but every day, I soar a bit higher. |
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