Musings From The Rats In My Brain

  " Give me your tired, your poor, / Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, / The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. / Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me" -Emma Lazarus. I have long been a troubled soul. One tortured by natures unknown to even me, but yea i have tasted it. I have tasted what true freedom is, and how truly wonderful it is. We are often told what freedom is. freedom is when you get the keys to your first car, when you're handed a diploma from your college dean, or when your handed a hefty retirement payment from your now former employee. I argue, however, that none of that is freedom, none of it is true freedom.  Tonight, on the eleventh of May I was given an experience unlike what life is to a child. I had spent the day driving my grandmother back to her home in Gulfport after a nice, but tiring, Mother's Day weekend. I had gotten home with the intention on taking my good friend Cory door dashing(delivering food to people for a mod...

    Author's Note This was written shortly after I wrote Fool(see my earlier post.) I really forced myself to write this one in an attempt to cheer myself up, and it kind of worked? Surprisingly it's a decent poem despite the fact I forced myself to write it(which usually ends in disaster.) This one was published in my school's newspaper as well, fittingly on the last day for Seniors(which I was[am?]) and it sat right next to a shoutout for my "magnificent poems." --------------------------------------------------------------------------                                                                       For the Fool For the people who jump without thought.   No matter how much pain is wrought For the people who live without a master. No matter how much of it...