Freedom, shadows in the past
An empty field, nothing standing
Are we living under our own rights
Morality, or Mortality
Whose hand holds the reins

We think we know, yet
Do we , Really?
We appear to be living in the past
In a place, where inalienable
Actually meant something

Hidden, the real, the true
Slaves, without chains
Chains, without links
The secrets, that are not
Shone,
Yet, we are being forced
To our knees

Without , Understanding

A document,  in time
To enumerated our future
A number, A line it spelled out
Our freedoms, Our new future

Mankind rejoiced, A future unbridled
Freedom for all, past history to be forgotten
Only to find Our future, was secretly
Hijacked, by those who stood in shadow

We believed our future wasn’t written
Yet, in time, those who could see
Recognized,  the same patterns
The same actions

We found, we were enslaved
By the same ideas
That killed, the ideas in the past
The Shadow, of Freedom fading

Until, it ceased to be seen
At all.

An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe