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The purest form of freedom
Writing whatever you believe on
Paper there is nothing greater
Than setting your dreams on
Fire getting higher where you think
They might not belong
But words just make the sounds that you tell them
Saying"Dream On"
Don't stop not even for
The red signs or the red lines
And when you're running out of room
It still lives in your mind
In your heart, in your soul, seeking
The way to be expressed
So if it's not part of your being
Then it is not you, it isn't true
So find whatever you believe in
And let it out
Yes, this is what poetry sings about
So if they ask me
Poetry is being me, without a doubt.

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