ideals sorry what?

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Written by
4 years ago

every sole idea I conceive

my mind freaks out and I retrieve

the scruples give my frights a hand

and blows my idea like some sand

then the misery gives a call

in the darkness back I fall

chaos ensues with illusions on spree

makes me think that I m free

but I cant give my wings a flap

and that for sure is a trap

for the horizon where I can see

I surmise that no one is free

but I can see the shackles break

swift a mayhem it may make

then we can fly high with winds

void of feet tied with stings.

we can make some cosmic plans

and spread some thoughts that are sane.

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