What Is Freedom?

Free from the societal norms
to which the lion’s share conform.
Wanting in fear, conscience and anxiety;
but the greatest dearth is empathy.
He is the psychopath.

Free from ponderous responsibility
shouldered by the likes of you and me.
Brain cracked like a spiderwebbed windscreen;
doped up to the eyeballs blankly serene.
He is the lunatic.

Free from having to remember
events too painful to dismember.
World shrunken to a golden elixir,
self medication the ultimate fixer.
He is the alcoholic.

Free from the weary grind of living
bleak as hell and as unforgiving.
Cold steel kisses him under the chin
a split second before the blowout within.
He is the suicide.

Free to spill imagination’s guts
transcribed on paper as lines and dots.
Words evoke paintings for interpretation.
This flowing outlet the greatest liberation.
I am the poet.