Opening
my eyelids without the pain of a sore sight.
That’s
what freedom is…
Freedom,
is finding a new approach
To
an old dream,
Remaining
true to self in the process.
Yeah,
that’s what freedom is…
It
is the truth exhaled through literary expression
Or
the knowledge that written words can be erased
But
ones that are spoken can never be taken back.
Reading…
Writing… Running:
Exercise
of escaping the prison plantation.
Using
the leaves from trees to be heard
Rather
than hanging from its branch without a last word.
Feel
me?
The
recognition of a freedom writer
The
commitment to doing what was once prohibited
For
my kind,
Speaking
my heart and mind, that’s freedom.
See,
this writing thing is no gimmick; it’s resistance,
That
goes beyond penmanship.
Every
word represents the blood I deny my captors
Every
syllable symbolizes another heartbeat that
Escapes
them, who see me as no more than livestock.
Damn
right! I got something to say.
As
long as my vision has focus
I’ll
be the eye of the storm.
Just
give me one breath and I can resuscitate
The
embodiment of reform.
That’s
what freedom looks like.
The
3rd strike ain’t right,
But
neither is the 2nd or 1st
When
the worst of the worst
Is
handing down sentences
And
putting babies behind fences
Decimating
their malnourished mental defenses,
Leaving
families as slaves to the penal system.
I
know what freedom is,
It’s
the words I have to say.
I
know where freedom is,
At
this point, I’d rather show than tell,
So
I’ll see you when I get there.
MannofStat
Copyright
© 2016 by Leroy Elwood Mann
