It is not okey to fly us for a night
It is not okey for our stomachs to bloat for a meal
It is not okey to shelter us from the wild mist for
a night
It is not okey to keep us chained for some clock’s
ticks
And isolate us from our lovers
Who make our every day a christmas with flying
kisses
Is it really okey?
Yet all of us have been cooked from the same pot
Subjected to equal intensity of the fire.
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