Carson’s Poetry: Freedom
The freedom is there
I can taste it.
It’s like a door without a handle
I can’t open.
I’m stuck in a room with kids
waiting to be freed.
Each and every one of them
the same age as me.
We’re searching for the light
We can’t see it
It feels like we’re all stuck
In the basement.
Filled with all of Oak Parks
darkest secrets
Like the third floor pool
how hard the seniors rule
and how the freedom is there
We can taste it.
