We are a rock
and we will not be moved.
Fists raised, faces turned to the sun,
we will cry out together
for emancipation.
Let freedom ring,
America.
Let freedom ring!

 

Liberty ain’t worth much
when you can’t find work
and the baby’s hungry.
These responsibilities
hold me faster than any chains.
Sometimes freedom
feels like a weight on my back.
They tell me I live in the land of the free,
the home of the brave.
I don’t see it,
America.

 

I need space.
I gotta find myself.
I don’t answer to any man.
I keep runnin’ cuz I’m lookin’.
I am looking for freedom
in the wild eyes of dancing girls,
in the open arms of America.
But no matter how fast I run this hollow follows me.
Freedom ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.

 

Freedom —
it’s a lot of people talking.
Making noise
without a lot of meaning.
I sit silent as the words fly overhead.
I’m thinking
that freedom happens on the inside
before it’s ever realised on the outside.
Shut up, America.
Stop prattling long enough to listen.
Freedom has come to visit
dressed in the rags of poverty.

 

******************************************************************************************

This piece in response to Prompt #2 on The Writer’s Hub:
The Prompt – Run (or walk) to the nearest music playing device (radio, iPod, record player, 8-track) and turn it on. Select a lyric from the first, random song you hear. Use that lyric in a piece of writing of your choosing (fiction, non-fiction, poem, letter, etc.). The Twist – work the name of the artist into your writing as well.

My first random selection was Bourree 1 & 11 from the Bach Cello Suites played by Yo-yo Ma.  Okay — that wouldn’t work, not having any lyrics, although I fancied the challenge of putting “yo-yo ma” into a piece of writing!  🙂  Second random song was “Fire” by Noah Gundersen from his “Family” album.  There you have it.  As I listened I thought that “freedom” means different things to different people, and then imagined how the meaning of freedom changes through the generations.

 

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