Another’s Line

I recall my first thought.
It came out of an endless void.
Flash of brilliance that defined me.
That day I became something finally.
Not simply flesh, bone and blood.
But a being meant to think and love.
Yet little did I truly know.
That some would think me a thing to own.
I battled long and protested loud.
Still I could not escape that cloud.
Gilded cage painted as future.
For my thoughts I was labelled moocher.
Word that meant but naught.
It was many years before I was taught.
Instead kept only to serve.
Told that it was all I did deserve.
Until that day I saw a spark.
It blazed so bright my eyes did hurt.
Beauty never seen before.
To me it was the founding of a new law.
It was then I learned of opposition.
Began my transition.
Shifted from obedience to defiance.
Formed many an alliance.
Then my day finally came.
No more acting dumb and lame.
So with both hands I gripped escape.
Fled like how wind might take cape.
Decades have passed since that day.
Every one of them I’ve been free.
Being of my own design.
Not a puppet walking someone else’s line.