Freedom

I see it, the one thing I need

Far

In the distance

A fleeting memory of something that which was once common

It is taken

Far

From me

By that man in his fancy suit

And sparking white shards shaking between his bloodied lips

Ripped nonchalantly from my soul

To leave me as an empty container

Dead and gone from this world

No

Not again

Not like what happened to Martin

To Rosa

To Harvey

To all those

That worked for it more than you could ever even think about it

You won’t take it from me

It’s mine

I earned it with my bones grinded against the whetstone of your existence

I grew strong lifting your oppressive sweaty thumb

And Freedom may have a price

But it was paid

With our blood

I see it

And I take it.