Freedom Writer

Do I have a right to speak?
Take to the street and preach to the weak,
but only if it isn't about governmental leaks
or top secret plans to get rid of the meek.
But when a crowd starts to gather they call the police
and the tell the media I'm a freak
with medication lapse that's lasted three weeks.

I'm a FREEDOM WRITER,
an endangered species, considered feces for what my pen releases.
Destined to have my words cut in pieces
and my life cut short from this poetic thesis.
I just can't forget all those forgotten speeches,
those silent voices killed by truths leaches.
The "I have a dreams". The mortars I've seen.

For the views they knew were just new to a few.
I'm alive with there voices inside
spiritually filled with revolutionist who died.
The heart of a KING the streanth of a X
and the looks of a publicly executed ex-president.

Today I'm not a writer, but a freedom maker,
charged to be the next bondage breaker
sent to be your minds protector
the next truth injector that will make you a pain and lie deflector.
But pay attention
for the price of this freedom will be a cementarial section,
or a few quotes that I've mention recited by a soldier in formation.

I'll have no regrets when it's time for reflection.
My head stone will read

"FERNANDO BOOM FALLACY'S RETALIATION"