Chains
One day
We'd be free they said
We'd be liberated
If that's true
Then why are there still shackles
Weighing down my every move
Preventing me to take even the slightest step forward
But have no troubling yanking me back
As I sit in the dark corner of the rooms that bind me
I dream
I dream of life where I can truly do anything
Where I can walk freely with no fear of who passes by
Where a child lying on the street has as much chance of success as one lying in a bed
I was told I lived in the Land of the Free
But most the time, all I see around me are chains
This poem is about:
My country