Price of Freedom...

Change. Pocket change.

Tinkering round between felt and lint.

Worth every cent.

Where is rent?

I'm bent, over myself-

Trying to find a way to pay

People shouldn't have to live this way

Someday, they say

Sorrow holds us all deep, my child

Inner and outer is just one made up game

I will find a way to make the change

Glass jars filled with copper pennies

Dropping sounds of clanking memories

What do I say to myself when I'm not listening?

How much of me is lost for even me to see?

Is it clear to you?

Do you see through?

Is this just word play to cover up-

Fears that I'll give in to make a buck?

And then I'm stuck.

No. Never. Not me. Couldn't be-

I was once lost, but now I am free

Beliefs are just thoughts you think over and over

But that doesn't mean I don't pick four leaf clovers

Wish for me, and I wish for you

I hope it keeps going just as it's supposed to