Wild & Free.

in poetry •  2 years ago 

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I sometimes tire of chasing down demons,
even as I know they are strong.
I watch their stealth and their wealth
creating a world of manufactured storms.

And, in small moments, I realize my own capture,
and I envy the painters, the poets, the writers,
who never fall for their rapture.

And in other small moments, some truths be told,
no one has to follow their lead
unless their souls be sold.

This life is such a small trek,
and in today's world, largely controlled.
But when the end comes, some will be glad
that we didn't do everything we were told.

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