The Cost of Freedom
Trapped and confined
by the ones I love most
is this my punishment?
I am sure of it, almost
Drained and confused
I hold onto the thought
of freedom and living
and a future I fear not
I dream about leaving
and I dread my departure
I quake at the thought
of the upcoming massacre
To be hated and shunned
thrown out or disowned
repulsed and perhaps forgotten
is the cost that cannot be postponed
The word freedom I use too loosely
for deliverance is not a guarantee
the unconditional love of my kin
is the cost to being free
Thank you to 