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Nov 2011
The day weaves through our time distraught bodies,
as we lay in constant wonder of where to go next.
There is no left, no right, no ups, and no downs,
just empty road and destinations unknown.
Maybe they'll care as we run into the sun,
or maybe they'll never notice out of the windows of their $100,000 cars.
And you're mother will shed her tears,
and my sister will shove guilt down my throat,
but the day is ours, life is ours.
So we'll tread through their woes and their words,
we'll grapple onto our beliefs like a child to the holy breast.
We'll stay nourished by our hopes, our love, our never ending fight.
We'll run into the sun,
run into the night,
run until our legs cry NO MORE.
And they'll say we're crazy,
when they look at our mangled corpses.
But hand in hand we'll always be,
because we are the ones truly dying for
FREEDOM.
Laura Olson
Written by
Laura Olson  Outside
(Outside)   
632
 
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