Prisoner

In my mind, I was a prisoner of the law,
Wrapped in justice, in bravery,
Inside a cell of freedom, feeling oddly raw

I thought I was a rebel trying to break free
Only to find out, Only to see,
that my country wasn't what it seemed.

Why did I hate America, the land of the free?
A land of opportunity, of Independence,
A place ruled by living Democracy?

I thought it was just the way I thought,
But the media, the Press,
Influences to forget things that have been taught

America needs changes, that I am sure,
But for the good, for the better,
So we can believe it has been endured.

Because change is just up on those hills,
So close you can feel it, can see it
And only then we can change our thrills.

Because I was once a prisoner from what others knew
Wrapped in blanket, a sheet,
Of colors that are red-white-and blue.