In the moment

Children are running, screaming, laughing.

I’m so glad they’re not mine.

I’m free.

Or am I?

Do I do what I want?

Do I know what I want?

I guess I’m free to trap myself with whatever confines I can invent

Schedules. Plans. Labels.

Here’s to structured freedom.

Let’s see if it lasts. or if it should.

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Posted on March 24, 2013, in Life, Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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