You told me to quiet down,

To bottle up all my opinons,



And songs.

To push them down,

Deep in my belly,

But silly boy,

Haven’t you ever heard,

That fire,

Cannot be put out?

And haven’t you ever learned,

That opinions are beautiful?

Because I have,

And that is why,

I let the fire boil up,

And spill from my lips,

Like flames,

In the form of words.

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