Author Information
Savannah 12-27-2004
Folder:
Deviant Maybe it's a kind of freedom.
Absence of pain and regret
or do we forget these things that lead to our end?
We live for ourself, on others, perhaps, with someone.
We live by our wits, our skill, and pure luck.
We have sides, we have enemies, and we have rules.
We desire, hate, and have to go to school.
We have labels; some genius and some fools.
These things take from us and we give to them.
What do we have left at the end?
Maybe this is the only kind of freedom.
