TYB…o7…
Freedom is
in the eye of the beholder
In the reflection
whales swimming yonder
Freedom is
a single moment
colorful, memorable
away from torment
Here stand
quiescent in tether
the last men
souls of feather
He is mad
they thought and told
oblivious
as they grew old
But at the heart
of men who see
how cookies crumble
and what life means
he will always be
the Skyking