Freedom of the Press

Losing my voice was my first choice
But they said death was better suited for me
And I’d never given my voice
So, my death it was always going to be

Tried walking in through the out door
But the attention simply seemed to increase
Did such words cut them to the core?
Oh, the fear invoked from this simple treatise

Met with anger, not so much fear
Did they not appreciate the saddest truth?
Thine enemy stood straight and clear
And yet my time was not quite done as a sleuth

They many, me myself and I
I leaned to peer inside their wicked toolkit of death
The time struck on my time to die
But, said I before my last breath

“The body shall perish, but the words will remain.
To bring crashing down your evil reign.
No escape for you, no redress.
From our full court freedom of the press.”

But with the swing of a blade, it was gone.

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