Freedom

They come preaching of freedom, of loosed chains and unlocked doors, but I live with a soul too used to liberty to understand the joy of being set free.

Or maybe it's the other way around.

Maybe my chains are too cunningly hid, the walls of my cage disguised as the horizon and the state of my soul covered over with fake smiles and happy stories.

Did someone fool me or did I fool myself? Who relegated me to a life on the shelf? I'm here worrying about the way that theatre seat felt when I could be worried about some starving child's health. I've been blinded by a dream of two kids and a house, and the lion that I used to be has grown into a mouse. This whole world is sailing south, and I'm fixated on the crooked tooth in my mouth - God help us.