Freedom.

I ask them why must I not be sad,
For I feel bad.
I feel empty 
and devoid of any churn of a happy thought.

They say, don’t be sad. Smile and be rad.
Hide your bags with glasses so dark
for your eyes give away
your sadness, where it left the mark.

Am I not free to be sad?

I ask them why must I not love him,
He makes it bright, where it was dim,
He makes it worth 
my life and breath.

They say, he’s wrong
and we do not belong.
for he is the same, 
Its Adam and Eve who came.

Am I not free to love?

I ask them why must I bow,
There, not here. Then and not now.
I want to thank the god for life,
I want to do it the way I know how.

They say don’t irk him, for he is God.
His love requires the priest’s nod.
He’s like a bull of might and power 
not a feeble girly flower.

Am I not free to pray?

When would I be free to be
To be with me, to love as mine.
Do I need to be God?
Is freedom only for the Divine?

Am I free?