It Could Be Prison| Word Meditations 43/366

There are two sides to the bars. To every bars. 
One’s freedom and one’s prison. How do you know which?

The open spaces and the fragrant air could be the prison of one longing for solitude.
The quiet cell could be the prison of the one in need of human touch.

There are always two sides to the bars. They are never the same, never equal, never alike. 
Yet no one knows wich is which. Where freedom lies and where prison. No one knows until one tries. For oneself. And only for oneself. And even you sometimes switch sides. Or long to switch sides though you had chosen freely.

It could be prison. But what if it were freedom?