Dear Freedom

Dear Dad, I'm trying,
Dear Mom, I'm dying.
My awkward sense of lost control is overwhelming,
A silent bitter end just seems so compelling.

Dear You, I'm losing,
Dear me, I'm abusing.
Heartbroken-less nightmares cruise through my nighttime mind,
I could fly until my wings were caught in a bind.

The striker strikes the match against the book,
The grain in the wood catches red fire.
I think about how foolish I must look,
Freedom is my only true desire.