The Voice

Maybe some people were born to never really be free,

Meant to belong to the world not confined to life in secrecy.

Words once spoken by many, seem to be the reality,

“You belong to no one, no place, that’s your inevitability”.

Sometimes it gets hard and sometimes it gets lonely,

But at second glance, digging deep, there’s nothing to stop reality.

Dodging the fakes, snakes, the liars, and all the thievery,

Rise up little warrior, no one can re-make your spirituality.

Been accused of chasing it all in some vain menagerie,

Like the purpose was fame, bullshit and sorts of monetary.

Apologies no more will escape these lips of frigidity,

I do me, you do you, just don’t step in my trajectory.

Fingers pointed, judged, dismissed from exclusivity,

Backed up against the wall, you’ve misread my diary.

Endless pursuit to create discomfort, change, leave the legacy,

I am coming for you, the time is now, you’ll learn my philosophy.

A band begins to grow, your confidence is becoming leery,

You will lead the fall and take with you your subsiduary.

Maybe some people were born to never really be free

But having a voice, that is what freedom means to me.

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