A sight to you is a sight to me
But is it a sight if we both can't see
It's ability to be and only be?

A fallen tree is a sound to be
As it is found by a deer
A fox
A bee.
But what about you,
And what about me?

We can and will be
As a sound, or a tree
As something that will never see
Existence.

There is jail
There is Hell
There is space where you roam
In between places nowhere
And the place you call home

They can tell you you're nothing
That you can't be free
But what is free
Is always
Your right to be.