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It's nice to be free isn't it?
To wake up in the morning and not regret the words unsaid.
To run and feel the wind in your face.
To speak with out having to think you will hurt anyone.
To be yourself while everyone is trying to find themselves.
Isn't it nice to be free?
It's nice to finally be happy.
To love as if I was never lost.
Everyone wants to be around yet no one makes the effort.
Is it me with my  silence?
Is it my ugly  features ?
Is it me with my disgusting rudeness?
I ask myself these questions as if I wouldn't know.
Yes it is me.
My third eye shows me more then I speak.
My soul leads me with my unforgiving rudeness.
You might act as if you don't feel it burning in your heart. It makes you want to scream because you know what they can not say. Yet you feel.
My first poem.

— The End —