Poem: Freedom

Living on borrowed time,

wasting it as if tomorrow is a real thing,

all around are dying people,

you are one of them,

yet, in your actions, you act immortal,

thinking that you could borrow some more time,

not understanding that you have no say over how much time you were given when you first cried out in this world,

still crying about useless things,

wasting your breath,

precious breath,

the inevitable marches on,

avoiding thinking about it,

inevitably it will catch you,

today, tomorrow, one day, someday,

till then there are really only two choices,

keep acting like you’re immortal,

or accept your mortality,

with acceptance comes freedom,

freedom to live the seconds you have left,

with avoidance comes slavery,

thinking there is a tomorrow,

a slave no more,

death sets you free,

all around us is death,

I am dying,

and so I am free.

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