My Feel

This day and age,

I find it hard to release my rage.

People are aggravating; and consuming

Is so very captivating.

I see my two feet from ‘93

Twenty-one and I am not yet set free.

I find release in every piece of work.

I set free the pain and hurt.

Brand new, I stand amongst the few.

Who have the power to choose?

We, who roam loose;

Freedom of choice feels more like a prison.

That is not the world I exist in.

Abusing power and choosing crimson.

If you asked me, I’d say there are some loose ends. 


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