Answer:
I walked and walked and at last I got it. I didn't want it. So I stopped and looked for it. When I found it, I threw it away.
What is the freedom of birds and the pen of old men?
They have not flesh, nor feathers, nor scales, nor bone. Yet they have fingers and thumbs of their own.
I can be written, I can be spoken, I can be exposed, I can be broken.
What has a mouth but can't chew?
I appear in the morning. But am always there. You can never see me. Though I am everywhere. By night I am gone, though I sometimes never was. Nothing can defeat me. But I am easily gone.