Elusive, constrained, hidden,
freedom comes quietly,
not from a granting by others
or in crushing battles won
but from the grasping of moments.

Laughing when laughter bubbles,
crying when tears well within,
playing when pressure invades
and by loving most intently
when hatred surrounds.

The battle flags unfurled,
the full voice of bugles and drums.
the rhythmic march of a thousand feet,
these are the marks of failure
in a world gone mad in fear,
in misery, and misunderstanding


Gus Daum


About degus221

A Kansan who has migrated to Oregon.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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