there's no magic carpet

my son in law came from
Tabriz, land of Princes
and exotic fiz,
in Isfahan he learned the
biz, and hankered for
a different way to live..
where, music was free..
and there were no
clothes police..
so he came..
over the mountains..
dressed as a woman..
on a donkey..
like Jesus did..
across two continents..
across an Ocean..
all by himself..
he achieved his notion..
Yet,
He could not adjust to..
his new found free world..
The truth be known..
He hated the freedom
we were born with..
and soon returned to..
his land of restrictions..
Leaving a heart broken
girl..who loved him
with all his contradiction..
Freedom comes at a price..
Bless that sweet boy..
to taste what we have
for free..
couldn't replace the life
he'd had abroad with
his own family..
Don't try to change us..
that's up to us...
Bless the grass that
grows beneath our feet.