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After years having no voice or control of myself. Breathing away from paranoia and anxiety. Can no one put me in shackles and chains. Does it feel bad, that you cant control me anymore? Eagerly I fly, from the years I spent in the rusty old cage. Free, is what they call it?

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 2/29/2020 11:31:00 PM
Nice poem,
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Date: 2/22/2020 7:07:00 PM
Well written ABC poem, Tanya, I feel your pain and desire for freedom.
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Date: 2/14/2020 1:27:00 PM
I like this. I especially like the reference to the rusty cage. good word choice.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things