Like a bird, I hear over my shoulder
I finally have an opinion
on things like faith and freedom
I finally see the beauty
in burning labels
on soup cans, and on
paper back books
I can justify helping
and I can justify sharing
because I believed
and yet now that I don't
I feel more free
and I can choose to be
or to live, and either one can work
and there is no right answer
and if hell wants me
I just won't die
Thanks for teaching me
how to fly.
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