Every day, I walk along the same road,

A path of work and play, the route I know.

Every day, I carry the same, tiring load,

A burden of hopes, fears, and woe.

Reading should never just be

considered an option.

A life without reading, not

understanding words, only

spots on a page, with the power

to change worlds, but they’re

dead without a voice, no meaning

till they’re read.

I hate putting my family through pain

If I could wrong my rights I would be sane

Until that point I hang my head in shame

I wish not but blame myself

I remember a time when I had freedom. Maybe

not freedom, but choices. I could

choose my friends. I could choose

what I wanted to wear. The freedom

to say no, when I didn’t want to do

something.