Poem- Freedom For Sale

Today makes me laugh.
The celebration of Independence.
People romanticizing how our ancestors fought for our freedoms.
They scream at us from their graves.
We have become the sheep to a new master.
They have built new walls,
To keep us safe.
“They’re not so bad.” We say.
After all, we can only see them when we look up.
Because of this, we do not realize that they grow taller, closer.
The grass that distracts us with is so sweet,
the water provided, just right.
The words from our captors are kind and reassuring.
Even as they drag one of us away,
What does it matter?
You are provided for.
It must be their fault.
You are simply better then them.
But when the day comes,
That you are dragged away, looking for help,
knowing you’ve done nothing.
Do not be surprised when no one lifts their head from the sweet grass.
Do not be surprised to see if one does, that they are dragged away as well.
This is the freedom we now have.
This is why our fathers cry from their graves.
We have relinquish our autonomy for contentment.

Prompt Autonomy

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