I am not a freedom fighter
in the usual way.
I am a freedom lover
day after threatening day.
I will not duck and run for cover
when bullies blare the call.
I will not turn away my eyes
from all their dubious lies.
I will not fret and stomp my feet
to match their ugly fascist beat.
I may be small.
I may be weak.
I may be old.
I am not meek.
I am strong to even my surprise.
I grow stronger with every sun-rise.
My strength grows in numbers.
My flower joins the bouquet
my fragrance rousing passion
for my beloved USA.
I cannot let silence stand guard.
I cannot pretend and play
while others fight for freedom
day after day, after day, after day.
My power is a loving blanket
thrown over the fires of hate.
Lovers of freedom, unite.
It is never…never…too late.
I may be old.
But, I am a woman and bold,
as only women know how to be.
I may be sick and weak.
But, I am not meek.
Freedom still smells sweet.
Lift your eyes and feet
and spread love for freedom
along with me.
Let an old hippie show you the way.
annarino writes 