Remembering Mlk Poem by Cece Garrison

Today has been set aside for a nation to rifle through the pages of history to uncover legacies of truth left by King.
They were not new truths just fashioned into new words which somehow inflamed our collective hearts to action.
Did the truth set us free? Free from what?
The timeless march of hatred met with love;
The long and winding roads of oppression and shame merging into lanes of freedom fighters determined to be heard... at last.
The cries of the weak for help from the strong.
Are we free yet? Free to do what?
Eat in a restaurant?
Relieve ourselves in a public toilet?
What price freedom extracts. It always cost more than we seem to have.
Who sets these prices anyway?
The scales are way out of balance, man!
The system of weights and measures is calibrated by legislative dogma intent on enforcing our constitutional "will"... and still there is no equality!
Equality of rights and responsibilities cannot be meted out by mortal man.
It is not in our nature.
We still cherish, too much, the visions of gladiators fighting to the death...
Only the strong survive... To the victor go the spoils...
Excuse me sir - could you tell me again - what did we win?