Freedom
A sad price we pay sometimes
seeing if our dreams are really only dust.
These empty rooms stare at my independence
with their chilling silence
and my mind echos their stares
with the memories of the laughter
of those who loved me in these rooms.
When all my freedom has mocked me
and my integrity proved pointless
against my pain.
When wild, free, alone and hungry
fail the test of love and company
will they love me still
my Rose and child?
Gallagher
28 Jan 71
Long Beach
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —