Being free,
What would it mean
To you and me?
Being free,
Could mean
Walking under
A free sky
For someone imprisoned
For life
A reprieve, a prayer answered,
A blessing sent down.
Being free,
Could mean, to a ten year-old,
Playing hopscotch, tag,
Instead of wading through
A pile of dirty dishes, somebody’s laundry
A responsibility thrust upon her young shoulders
Unwittingly.
Being free,
Could mean no targets, no deadlines,
Just pristine pure sand,
The waves lulling you to sleep
Dream easy
Being free,
For a housewife and mother,
Would be a day at the spa,
A day out, ladies only!
Those moments of freedom would be savored
And finally,
Being free
When ridden with diseases,
Tubes everywhere, the all-pervading smell of medicines,
A visit finally
By the Grim Reaper,
The last of life, leaving the body, a final gasp
That would be deemed ultimate freedom
Nothing would come close to that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very nice poem.... free to smile, when it hurts! ! 10.. Ali