Free

If work will never make us free
I wonder what you’re earning for
An addict waging slavery
Is not a life I’m yearning for
Reject the coin the master rates
He offers fools a golden calf
Those idols in their sorry states
With futures bought and cut in half
You could upset a status quo
Why don’t you cut and run with me
No shackles so we’re free to go
And lose ourselves in anarchy
A revolution quite divine
Your hand so freely held in my mine

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Author: thepoetautist

A Gay poet of fifty odd years who is currently living in Cambodia.

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