Breaking Free

Come and 

Take me to

The high mountains.

Let me realize

That sometimes my voice,

Is the paper

And their ears,

Are the paper.

Will they listen 

Or will they ignore it?

Am I another item 

That is just forgotten.

Come and 

Take me to 

The high mountains.

Where the birds sing

And nature thrives.

I will wait patiently,

Until my voice is out.