Freedom

Tap feet.
A subtle
An exaggerated
Nod of the head
Knees bent
To pray to a god known as
Freedom.

In red lights
Yellow lights
Green lights
And white blinking ones.

I write as I search

To bow down one's head to pray but to someone.

To shout
To sing
To express
Not a fear
Not a frown
But only a voice.

A voice
To echo
In the room
In your ear
In your memory.

We expect
And anticipate
What is
Hopeless
Implausible.

In the here.
The sometime.
In forever.

Written Feb 12 2010. Somewhere while alone pretending to text someone when in fact I was writing this. It's wonderful to write things in places you never thought you could ever concentrate. And while you were kinda dizzy, too. Ha.