The Cost of Freedom

Walking down the street all my possessions in my backpack

Headed anywhere but here and never looking back

Homeless yet I've not lost everything

My soles are wearing thin,

I'm down to my last few dollars

It's getting dark,

I try to hitch a ride

but no one bothers

to help a homeless stranger

My body worn from exhaustion is on the verge of collapse

A soft patch of grass I've found

I lie down and into a dreamless sleep I do lapse.

And this is the cost of freedom