Is it raining outside?
Or are the sunrays adorning the sight?
Who is out there?
And what are they doing?
Someone tell me
I want to know
I am trapped in a dark room
Locked up by an angel
Who broke the key
And walked away
So far that I can’t see her halo
I am trapped alone
Where I can’t tell
Anyone, how I got here
Because I always got a veto
So what is outside those four walls that I am caged in?
What do people do with their lives when they have owned their freedom?
Do people smile?
Do they laugh?
Because sometimes, I hear them from where I am
Is their laughter genuine?
Is there such thing as happiness?
Is there really love?
Or is it a fantasy to fill the emptiness?
Do they cry?
What do they feel?
Are they worm
Or always cold like me?
Maybe one day
I will face the sunlight
Maybe one day
I will walk among those who laugh and smile
Maybe one day
My angel will come back
And maybe one day
She will get me out
YOU ARE READING
Foreign Freedom
PoetryWhat is freedom, and what do people who own it do with it !!?