Poem: Harboring Reservations About Freedom

Standing at the edge of the harbor
Where pretending with cold noses
We could smell English tea sinking
To the bottom set to a chorus
Of wild freemen cheering revolution 

With frozen fingers in warm pockets
Our feet carry us along the streets
Winding along the old bricks of Boston
Following the path for the freedom trail
To places where patriot ancestors plotted
Seditious plans before taking action to foil
A distant crown that didn’t understand 
Freedom from a divine right

Free and subjugated blood soaked soil
That became so saturated with fighting
That words had to settle conflicts
That swords and bullets never could

Here with the ghosts that came before
We are left to wonder what they would think
When the free would give way to submission
To pretend to feel powerful on their knees
Behind a new ordained king minority elected
Who doesn’t care anymore for them
Than George did their ancestors

Revolution meant freedom
Freedom means that we’re free
To fail or succeed but we’re free
To choose
We must always choose
Freedom otherwise what is 
An American

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Copyright © 2021 TJS Sherman All rights reserved.

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