Them Folk

What makes them tick, the folk I see;

one wonders what they want to be.

Locked up fast within their mind;

is this cruel or is this kind.

Everyone’s allowed to be

happy, alive and always free.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.

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