I write as I live,
By stealing some moments of spark
From the world outside my window,
The world which will rather watch me
Go down, in the obliviation of being.

There's something inside me,
I call it free man,
As you will prefer me getting my head down and work
The free man say, "aye mate, I am lost because I am free".

The world fears my free man, I think
Because he is too real for this world of yours,
He will smile when you all will be running in the same direction
And then he will whisper in my ear,
"You know what kid, they are running in wrong direction".

I love my free man though,
Just because he is way too real,
Not an imposter like me,
Not a coward like the world,
He is just a man born free, my old free man...


©Radhe