Freedom.

Squirrel on my window,
Quarrels with my trammelled soul.
Freedom you sense, freedom you sow.
For the world to clap, you'd put on a show.
The circles you run ceaseless,
The circles of covetousness.
Fire in that flesh and fire in that bone.
Freedom of being high,
Freedom to be wretchedly alone.
It's the face of the world,
Or the world in one face?
All petals of the whorl disgrace.
A time to rend, a time to sew.
Breathe in that air and start anew.