Poetry, the power to conceive an experienced emotions, letting it loose in freedom, spoken tongue and fluttering eyes, reliving an foundation to move forward. Knowing full well, that death is definite. While Iβll speak as others read. I do wonder what freedom is made from. Whether itβs in this life or the next. Until the end of time, Iβll continue in poetry and so far, itβs the best form comfort outside the lovers arms of safety.