7 views
do I choose freedom
I see a rope, I see a string,
A path to freedom, a delicate thing.
With cut hands, I reach out to grasp,
But each strand a symbol of my strength, slipping from my hands.
© Nm
A path to freedom, a delicate thing.
With cut hands, I reach out to grasp,
But each strand a symbol of my strength, slipping from my hands.
© Nm
