I stick out my tongue and taste the rain;
It’s wet and slick on my face.
Fresh rainfall is always so profound;
In this moment I feel free.
Freedom. A vague dream that slips away,
Like smoke and steam and the waves.
Let me flirt with freedom while I can;
I know it will never last.
The shackles, they are weighing me down,
But for now I am happy.
Let me pretend that I’m not alone,
That I’m dancing in a field,
That the sky isn’t blackened with ash,
That love doesn’t please and burn.
What would it be like to be a cloud?
To float about carelessly
And not be stayed by gravity’s hand?
It would feel like freedom, too.
But even the clouds are kept locked,
Trapped up in the big old sky.
Even the clouds aren’t free, but I wish….
I wish that I was like them.