What price freedom

There was no scarf across face

No end of pointed gun or knife

That demanded or else

Just a new kind of tyranny

a barrier of arrogance

of privilege

unashamed

mocking

unmoving

for the freedom he thinks he represents.

In the smile on his young face

moored, this unfathomably legacy

this “great” era,

where hate masquerades as freedom

an assumed privilege,

without boundaries

without responsibility.

a dawn bird

3 thoughts on “What price freedom”

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