Freed Poem by cheryl davis miller

If I could find a place to dwell
where I'd no more be found,
I run to that most blessed place;
let quietness abound.

There in that precious place of peace
where no eyes look on me,
no more the shame of failure's weight;
I would at last be free.

Free from all man's expectancy;
and judgement of the same.
Freed from my lack of self-esteem
and constant sense of blame.

There I would hide and celebrate
no more to suffer shame.
To live free of that hurtful voice;
my silence overcame.

c.d.m.4/18/14