Younger Men



Don’t we all wish

To be younger men?

To find our chains less beautiful,

Lest we think them freeing,

To find the bars of the cage we call home

Just a little less familiar,

Lest we think them home,

To find our imprisonment

A few degrees less hopeless,

Lest we think that we are there

Of our own free will.


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A poet driven by the quill, a dreamer of impossible dreams, a lover of that which the world has deemed unlovable. We're all stories in the end. This is mine.

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