Free is Easy
Spectrum
Calm and comfort under the guise of different and outsider,
A little boy floats toward the abandoned swing set.
He sits on black rubber and grips rusty chains,
Kicks his legs up until he's flying.
He takes a chance and lets go,
Feels his body being thrown into the air,
He expects to fall but instead he soars:
Ghosts are the free ones.
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9/30/14 10:43
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