Freedom is not walking through the town,
Wondering if you’re going to make it home.
It’s not marching through the streets for your rights,
While people throw slurs,
Pouring hatred through their mouths
Hoping to drown you in their animosity.
Freedom is not sitting pretty,
Knowing your planet is dying.
It’s not being told to torture children,
Throwing your cruelty freely,
As fast as the bullets from your gun.
Freedom is running through the trees,
Swift as the wind on the lakes.
Laying in the meadow,
Staring up at the shapely clouds
Drifting through the atmosphere.
Freedom is driving through the desert,
Gazing at the trillions of stars above.
It’s swimming in the infinite ocean,
Jumping through the waves like a deer.
It’s smelling the pleasant wildflowers,
And caring for everything that crosses your path.
Freedom is not fear,
It’s not oppression,
Freedom is beautiful,
It’s not uniform.