Flight Towards Freedom

Flight Towards Freedom

Fear, rejection and silent screams;
they seek approval and freedom dreams.

Mask, diamonds and fancy dress;
their soul chokes under the glittery mess.

Joy, happiness, for them they beg;
they all are slaves with chained legs.

Tired, defeated, they give in,
but I do not, for this is a sin.

Revolt, rebellion and my war cry;
I take off my clothes, my soul won't die.

Hated, scorned, I am loathed,
but they are blind, they are clothed.

Liberty, freedom, my limit is the sky;
With my wings outstretched I soar high.

The Red Brick Wall

In the backyard of my apartment there is an old red-brick wall that has been standing there since my memory can recall. It wears a crown of broken glasses and like a faithful sentinel, it guards us from men with harmful intentions.

Unlike other walls in the premises, it's unpainted and neglected; a bunch of wild creepers have grown over it like a large, green cloak.

Although for most people this wall must be boring and uninteresting, but for some reason my eyes perceive it as an object full of charm and personality.

The dried up cement that was used to bind it, now act as graceful wrinkles on it's old face.
An extra dimension of life is added by the lizards who are often seen sunbathing and chasing lunch on it.

If you ever spent some time with it, then I am sure that you would go back home and rip every wall off of it's paint and grow creepers on it.

In many ways that wall is a symbol of being who you want to be. Rejecting the conventional definition of glamor, it has created a beauty of it's own.

It's kind of funny to say, but I want to be like that wall- strong, hard and unconventional. I want to make the world see the unique beauty that lies hidden in things which are different. I want to make niche in this world where people who are labelled as 'strange' can embrace their identity.
I consider that red-brick wall my idol in this respect.

Recently I came to know that my idol is soon going to be demolished.

Childhood memories came flooding back and I ran to bid my farewell.
And now I find myself teary-eyed, staring intently into it's depths.
Sitting beside it, I run my hand through it's ruff skin, soon a wall with paint and plaster will replace it.

In contrast to me the red wall stands strong in it's place.
Either it's ignorant of it's fate, or it's happy to leave a world which failed to accept things with a difference.