If there is a lot to think before I take the road,
If there is a million times to worry before the flight I board,
Is that a problem with I or dependance?
Is I and dependance bonded to life,
like twins to part with death?
Is hoping and wishing and freedom to feel
Got to do with the country I live?
Are thoughts bounded by the borders of questioning,
Or will it be different if I were on the other side of the pacific?
If the grass is green everywhere?
Should I worry about the shade or worry if there’s enough to cover the land at all?
If every switch steals a bit of the world that I make,
And every click is about the info to take and break,
If every time I blink there’s one more tear at stake,
Will I ever be free to breath, feel, touch and dream.
Is this the freedom I celebrate?