Indiana Poem by sharon wildey

Where is the freedom
When you grow up in a small town by the tracks
And must live by their rules
Or they drop you like a piece of the manure
They kick off their shoe
Where is the freedom
When you rise above the limited vision
Of a little place
In the minds of people
With no face
Where is the freedom
When it gains you nothing but fear
Fear that you will never find a place
With love, tolerance and peace
Better to stay in the small place
And turn yourself away
From truth and love
Better to live without a face
Than to wander aimlessly and alone
Where is the freedom in that