Freedom: A Poem

Freedom (Romans 6)


“I’m tired of hiding who I

Really am,” he says. And runs in,

Arms flailing, head down, free

Way down in his mind. They clap,

Who stand along the bars. Their

Ebullient words echo off

The cage—dampened by metal.


He clanks and scrapes the chain snaked

Around his ankle. “Now, I’m



Still, even while he courses

Around the cage, that same Voice

That’s always called, calls still.