Almost Free

I’m so close to the end.

I dread,

and dread,

and I agonizingly dreaded

to go to that school

all these years.

 

Funny how you only realize,

that you shouldn’t have have taken something

for granted right as it’s about to

expire.

 

I’m almost free.

But the problem also is that…

I’m almost free.

Free.  

Freedom.

Is not always good.

 

Freedom can mean finally escaping prison on an island,

but freedom can also mean saying goodbye

to your daily meals.

And your cell.

And hello to cold, deep, drown-able waters.

 

Freedom is very scary and frightening.

And I’m almost there.

Almost.

Free.

I’ve got time.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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