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TheFreeWay
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Understanding It's a thousand hoofbeats
running wild on an open range,
it's an old country song
you sing to on a clouded summer day
it's the way ink flows upon paper
it's the acoustic guitar that echos on
when the last chord is played,
it's the waves crashing upon eachother
as they make way to the shore,
it's the peace on mind after you meditate
it's sleepless nights watching movies
knowing you won't rest until its early in the morning, or just too late
it's the rain crashing
on an old tin roof, echoing
as you write a poetry of freedom
at 1:35 am.
