On Freedom

I get so sick of all those voices;

the ones that limit all our choices.

Those voices aren’t just in my head;

they ring through media, all I’ve read.

There is no future in this place

that wants us all to hide our face;

this world where freedom is a dream

and smiles we see aren’t what they seem.

Truth is dead, it seems to me;

there is no way left to be free?

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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