Freedom In Its Many Places
I'm on the verge of the straight and narrow, but should I die from my own arrow, for the walls of integrity are inside me, but what will it take for me to be free. I try and try until I can't try no more, for the last that I need is my freedom washed upon a shore, a shore of which is made by my own in caption, for freedom is to courage the burden of my inception. So this is my cry, this is my plea to be free from stress and integrity, to brake down the wall and see what is to see, the man in my free mirror, Me. For freedom has its many places and those many place will set me free, but the truth is a person, my Lord you'll let me be, to find my own freedom to set myself free. For I need my Lord to finally set myself free, to be the man I was made to be, scared of nothing, conqueror of all, the man people look upon to call, to call so they may be free, so I can look upon my mirror and finally see the man I am, and was always suppose to be, free for all to see, Me.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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