Free Verse-ish

Let it be known, I hate writing free-verse with a burning passion. But, when a poem calls, I must write it. This is a collection of such poems.

(Rating for eventual language.)


4. Cuatro

My chains are made from duties and responsibilities,

From loyalties I can't break from. I am stuck in

A place I cannot escape

Even though the door stands open.

It's captivating, these things that hold me down.

They're chains of my choosing, a loaded gun to my head.

If I were to move, who can say what my fate would be?

To betray the trust that was placed in me because I wanted to be free.

Can I call myself a human

If I cannot grasp these simple truths?

Can I call myself anything if I remain bound by

My own choices?

Is that the most human thing of all?

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