We all have a desire for freedom–but often exhibit it imperfectly. Instead of choosing what would truly make us free, we choose things that look like liberty but end up hurting later.
Sometimes, when others are disappointed in my choices and love of adventure, I wonder–what is the essence of the desire for freedom? And why do each of us possess it?

Sometimes I can see it in your eyes,
That you are disappointed in me
Because I learn as a child
And you want the best for all I could be
I can hear it in your questions
That you see me growing up
Without a mind or will
To survive in a world that hates us.
And you think it’s high time
I settled down responsibly
Did this or that,
Or maybe just performed my life
With a few more manners
A dash of common sense and less strife.
But did you know that sometimes
I feel like I can run into the sunset
Without my feet ever touching the pavement?
That I dream of castles in distant lands
And still think that Neverland exists
Beyond the farthest stars?
My dreams cannot be strangled
Even though my pennies hit
The surface of the pond and I watch them sink.
I am vulnerable and foolish and courageous
All at once.
I stay out too late and wake up too early
And do everything out of order,
Loving the inner turmoil that touches
Me at every fingertip.
I believe that I can fly sometimes
Even though my wings are cut,
And my imperfect desires
Race down an open road without constraints.
Someday I will find
What that part of my soul longs for,
Although I cannot imagine it,
Even when the sun shines the brightest at dawn.
Please do not dampen my spirit,
The world will do that on its own,
Until I reach my true home
And freedom flies, uncharted,
for all eternity.


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