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To only know how to ask,
A question that he can't help but,
Chase after with such light and dark in his eyes,
That won't stay still for long enough to write down.

To only know how to forget,
The questions that he ignores,
And clatters past without balance nor reason,
For the joy of careless haste.

To only know how to speak,
The words self-censored not self-centred,
To shout and scream and giggle at himself,
For no f*ing reason.

To be free-formed and free from self,
J'aimerais ĂȘtre libre!

Yes...
I wrote in French...
Why not?
K Balachandran Dec 2014
Each one was elaborating
all about life at length;
in many words, all one heard
was just about themselves

— The End —