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Freedom Poems to Set Your Spirit Free to Be

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Freedom poems

We’re just getting started with our own collection of freedom poems here. Please send us yours — either your own or your favorites by others — and we’ll include them here.

FREEDOM POEMS

Letting Freedom Ring

Freedom rings across the land
Flags flying in the breeze
All we hold within our hands
We think it came with ease

Those before us paid our way
So nice of them to share
The precious flag they displayed
It cost a lot, my dear

My mind is free, voice is heard
Freedom oozes from my pores
My heart can fly just like a bird
Whether rich or poor

We are free to do as we please
As we navigate this life
Some folks, they will disagree
When freedom is applied

The freedom we use everyday
My dear, it has a price
Call your heart to be swayed
Before you know its strife

You’re free from cause, not effect
As you make your own choice
You don’t know what to expect
When others hear your voice

Think ahead, let them hear
Free your heart and mind
Be tall and true, do not fear
Always be so kind

Freedom can cost everything
Exercise with love
Fly so high with golden wings
As you hover far above

Do this now and you will know
Your heart will wholly sing
Free your heart, watch it grow
Letting freedom ring

~Shannon DeAnna Schofield, poet, author, gardener beekeeper, b.2/23/1977

My First Taste of Freedom

Freedom was an untied lace.
Freedom was a red blouse.
Freedom was a plate of chicken.
Freedom was saying no more.
Freedom was the start,
then the end and the restart.
My freedom may not look like yours
but damn…it felt good.

Amalie Stoneman, multi-talented, multi-disciplinary artist, practicing poet

Free to Create

In the morn of life’s grand stage,
each day is a blank, inviting page.
From dawn’s first light to twilight’s crest,
we are free to create our best.

Our lives, a canvas, vast and bright,
In every stroke, a brave delight.
Sketching dreams with tender heart,
Creating is life’s own art.

Not bound by chains of yesterday,
Each sunrise brings a fresh ballet.
In our hands, a potent power,
to build a dream in every hour.

Creating love throughout each day,
grateful for this life to play.
A radiant dance, a melody,
painted in pure symphony.

From the soft glow of joy’s embrace,
we create warmth in every space.
Every smile, every shared cheer,
an artwork born of love, sincere.

We are free to sow and reap,
in life’s field, vast and deep.
Free to dance, to sing, to play,
free to create our own today.

Oh, the power in every beat,
in every triumph, every defeat.
In every path we choose to start,
we are free to create our art.

So let’s embrace this precious gift,
each moment a new shift.
To weave our stories, star to star,
Free to create, who we truly are.

LeAura & AI

Born in April, 1959, I was conceived on July 4th, 1958, so for fun, I asked ChatGPT to write a poem using this prompt:

Write a poem about a soul conceived on Independence day.

Conceived on Independence Day

Born beneath the burst of stars,
As rockets traced the midnight bars,
A soul was formed on Independence Day,
Swaddled in freedom’s grand array.

From liberty’s loud and joyous ring,
This soul began its fluttering,
Not bound by chains of yester-year,
Free to bloom, without fear.

Born of firework and flame,
In a land where freedom became,
More than just a fleeting thought,
But a war hard fought and dearly bought.

This soul conceived in freedom’s glow,
Has a destiny, and will surely grow,
To grasp the promise in the night,
In the colors of freedom’s flight.

Beneath the stars, so high, so bright,
That lit the world with their light,
This soul was born, so pure, so free,
On the day of liberty.

Every heart-beat, every sigh,
Echoes the fireworks in the sky,
This soul is born of freedom’s song,
And to freedom, it will always belong.

So let the bells of freedom ring,
Let the choirs of liberty sing,
For a soul was born on Independence Day,
In the land of the free, the home of the brave.

LeAura via ChatGPT (unedited)

Creators Bold and Bright

To all creators, bold and bright, who breathe the world in words and light,
Who sculpt their dreams in clay or code, along imagination’s road,
This song of freedom, love, and might, is sung for you in darkest night.

With pencil, paintbrush, chisel, or quill, you tame the chaos, instill your will,
Where silence reigned, now stories bloom, where emptiness, ideas loom.
You weave the real with the unreal, in freedom’s grand and sacred reel.

Fear not the blank and open page, for it is but an empty stage,
Yearning for your unique story, painted in its fullest glory.
The silence broken by your voice, is freedom’s most essential choice.

Each stroke you draw, each note you play, each word you choose to write or say,
Is a testament to the freedom found, in the profound of sight and sound.
Every thought that you create, is a challenge to fate’s cold slate.

No ruler, king, or tyrant’s rule, can stifle the creative tool,
In your hands, it shines, unfurls, a beacon in these worldly whirls.
The freedom to create, inspire, is the soul’s most fervent fire.

The paths of art are manifold, and each one a precious gold.
Some will sing, and some will dance, some will give the canvas glance,
Some will write, and some will code, all are on creation’s road.

Through joy, through pain, through loss, through gain, the artist’s heart does not wane.
For every struggle, every strife, gives birth to art, brings it to life.
Each tale told, each picture shown, each sculpture carved, each seed sown.

The freedom to create is key, to live and breathe in liberty.
To make your mark, to share your view, to tell the tales that are true to you.
So wield your tools, let passion steer, for the freedom to create is here.

In the end, it’s clear to see, your creations set you free.
No matter what form they may take, they are the ripples that you make.
The freedom to create, my friends, is a journey that never ends.

LeAura & AI

Creators Till the End of Time

In the expanse of the infinite sky,
Beneath the universe’s watchful eye,
We’re the dreamers, unconfined,
Masters of the heart and mind.

We are free to shape and mold,
Our tales in hues of dusk and gold,
Ink and marble, code and rhyme,
Creators till the end of time.

The canvas, vast as the cosmic sea,
A testament to liberty,
In every stroke, every line we make,
We are free – free to create.

LeAura & AI

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