When will I be free? I’ve been free since June 19th, 1865. I’m unbound, but I don’t feel alive.
When will I be free? 158 years ago they took the chains off my body and yet somehow they’ve still got me.
When will I be free? My homeland sees my face as filthy and always indiscriminately guilty.
When will I be free? The plantation bred strife still lives in me. I always see my brother as my enemy.
When will I be free? What’s the point of my liberty when There’s no justice or equality to follow me.
When will I be free? Every day it’s like I’m going insane because the world always wants to put me back in chains.
When will I be free? Almost two centuries later I still feel like a hostage. My ancestors didn’t die for a future where I’m still trapped in bondage.
When will I be free? Sometimes my life is unsavory. I’m technically not a slave but I still live in slavery.
About the Creator
Joe Patterson
Hi I'm Joe Patterson. I am a writer at heart who is a big geek for film, music, and literature, which have all inspired me to be a writer. I rap, write stories both short and long, and I'm also aspiring to be an author and a filmmaker.
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Lila's Legacy: The Wisdom of Eldergrove
Among a sacred and enduring forest, Eldergrove village, a tiny one, was situated. The villagers were humble, and they closely lived with the nature to which they returned what they owned by the nature and took only what they required. Not far away from them was a young woman named Lila, who all trees could describe their language into her ears. A kind and gentle heart was her own, she has every soul in her hands. Then, one incredible afternoon, Lila was moving past areas that she had never wandered that far before, and she discovered a hidden glade mysteriously bathed by golden rays. The most beautiful tree had its limbs spread out at the heart of the grotto and its silver leaves that glittered in the sun rays. Upon her arrival, she was greeted by the sight of a small leather bound manuscript entrapped in the root clusters, carefully wrapped in the foliage that was the color of emerald, and adorned with intricate patterns of gold. Gloriously, she raised the volume with her heartbeat exactly the same and opened it. Through this sentence the character's bond with the book became stronger. Thus, the first sentence reads, 'She was silent, barely a whisper.
By Muhammad Abdullahabout 17 hours ago in Poets
Comments (2)
I liked the flow of your thoughts and emotions. One day when the mindset changes and the will of people changes, everyone will be free. Keep the flame of hope alive. And have a positive outlook. Well written poem.
When we can finally look away from the superficial designations of culture, time, and place and inward to the individuals we are and reflect that back, honest and unashamed, then we are free. Sorry to say, we're a long way off as a species, in my opinion, but I'm glad I stopped by to catch your wordplay this day. Reminds me of the power of some of Douglass' work. "I prefer to be true to myself, even at the hazard of incurring the ridicule of others, rather than to be false, and to incur my own abhorrence." -Frederick Douglass