Where Freedom Lives

I went to sea and rode a whale
and asked if he could take me
to find where freedom lives.
I nearly drowned.

I soaked up life and drank too much
trying to find freedom living
in the bottom of a bottle.
It was empty.

I wandered desert’s scorching sun
where life fights for every breath,
thirsting for a sign of freedom.
My lips cracked.

I sought an audience with death,
a final resting place that
even freedom can’t escape.
It was lonely.

I was born in pain and joy
to start life anew with hope
and freedom stretching out ahead.
Crying hurt my ears.

I read books until libraries
bowed before my knowledge;
Was freedom found in a word?
It was redacted.

I sat atop a mountain and thought
about my thought about my thought,
a train of thought that led to freedom?
I had no ticket.

I planned and worked and built a fortune
piling money until the sky was green,
so sure that freedom can be bought.
It has no price.

I gave it all away and laid down
waiting for nothing, wanting nothing,
nothing can deny me freedom.
Still nothing.

I became a whirling dervish demon
my maddened mind can do no harm,
surely freedom will be mine.
They locked me up.

The open road alone I went
to find where freedom lives,
the address was covered in dust.
I walked right by.

How long will it take
to find where freedom lives?
I found it in a familiar place.
Freedom lives in me.

© Jack Thompson

Jack Thompson is an international bestselling author finding voices in many genres. In addition to his popular Raja Williams mystery series, Jack writes science fiction, political thrillers, paranormal romance, children’s stories and fairy tales.

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