FREEDOM IN BONDAGE

I remember passing the freedom field

And seeing old men,

With their teeth missing

Eyes missing

Limb missing

Looking like skeletons of their past self that was never allowed to bloom

They sat in a perfect row

Like there was a chain holding them in place

And a master whipper,

Waiting for someone to step out of line so he can whip them back into place

But there was no chain

And there was no master whipper

But they were like slaves still under the master,

In the state of freedom

they were still being held in place

by ideologies of the past

never letting themselves taking a breath

the whip, tho still gone,

still has a hold over them.

so they pass their fear to their young ones,

tell them what road to take to avoid the whip,

how to dress to avoid the stares

what to say

when to laugh

and when to cry

and then they became the whip

holding the young ones in their chains

never let them see what life was before the whip

they labelled their old ways

as evil

forbade all talk of it

because the whip condemned it

but gradually we're breaking out of the chains

learning life all over again

learning what it means to take a breath, free of fear 

we're learning to laugh and cry at the same time

learning to break out of the box that held us in place

learning to explore and find our place

learning to be

learning freedom

and it feels like heaven on earth;

without fear of the whip

and maybe one day, we'll tell of the stories of our scars

or maybe not.