Barely Free

So fragile, weak and scared they swim in the tank. Not much of the room to breathe not even to stretch their legs, they move up and down with the hope of being free, may be some day they will or may be death will meet them before anything else.

The question climbs up on my mind: “Are we really alive? Are we really free?”

The air passing through our lungs knows that there was never a sense of freedom inside, they know that the harsh reality is undoubtable and that we are barely alive, the emotional outburst and even the urge to live is bounded by the social limitations of our day-to-day life.

In the end we are barely human and we are barely free. Freedom is just a word on a blank paper it is probably a myth.

An Empty Glass

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