The Price Of Freedom Poem by Allen Steble The Philosophical Poet

Long have I asked the price of freedom

Hours toiled so long and hard
After fifty years in the junk yard
Loathed labour for an honest dime
Or perhaps a life lavish with crime
...Payed with guilt

Years suffered through famine and drought
Followed by years more of uncertainty and doubt
A lifelong contract for the price of your soul
Signed in blood at the bottom of the workers scroll
...Payed with desperation

Weighed down by an abundance of possessions
They are the vice that breeds gnawing obsessions
Keeping us slaves to a ticking clock
With no key to open the damn lock
...Payed with your life

The price of freedom
Is not more...it's less