Freedom

          

         The regime, oppressive, asking for documents. 

         They keep pace, just behind me. 

         I won’t look back at them, for looking back is guilt.

         And I am guilty.

         The fugitive, keeping secrets, surviving underground.

         She signals, just ahead. 

         I won’t run to her, for running is desperate.

         And I am desperate.

         There is much I will give up

         If they catch up to me.

         I’ll have to live like someone else.

         There is much I will give up

         If I can reach her first.

         I’ll have to live like myself.