Man is born free, but everywhere he is in chains,
We are creatures of circumstances, or so the author claims.
Conforming to the society, we are shaped by the invisible hand,
Sometimes we yield freedom, sometime its taken by the law of the land.
We trade our freedom, for bread on the table,
Are left behind in the race- a dark horse in the stable.
Injured, not whole, we blindly keep following the herd,
Abdicating responsibility and freedom, with a stone we kill 2 bird.
Can we really have freedom, have a power to shape?
Be more than our instincts, be more than an ape?
Or are we subdued by civilization, with a veneer so strong,
That exerting our freedom, would seem oh so wrong.
But today I realized, with a sudden gleam,
I have the last of human freedom- the freedom to dream!
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