The prisoners
Are the free
Shackled to chains
Of their own creation
To not know that loss
The monotony of the mundane
One sits in a cage
Wishing to waste time at will
Freedom is easily sold
Rarely at a worthy price
Foresight is a gift
Granted to very few
One may be robbed
Of all action and autonomy
Living freedom to the fullest
Length of their shackles
Having no bounds
Living endlessly and free
The will of all in the world
Yet inaction in their every deed
Paradox 