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brown-recluse
brown-recluse
We stand on our Quarters Larger than Life Submitting our twenty-five cents We lift one foot Anticipating a walk Towards the edge, Towards the grooved rim of the sliver circle We reach the edge, Within one step, not far, We have not the freedom to step off our Quarters Silver stability must remain our foundation And a retreat backwards Makes constant cowards, so Changing our direction is the only Truth. Reorienting, 180 degrees, facing a new path We have Liberty to walk again. **** us if we don’t walk again. But soon we have reached the other edge. No different than the first. It keeps us from leaping, frozen on our funds. Yet, we also know not the deprivation Of falling off our coins, The black abyss. Is True freedom Complete freedom? It makes no difference how we walk on our Quarters, To walk, perambulate around their boarders, One constant remains: We are always on the edge of change.
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 11:57 PM UTC
Political Change: Quarters