I visit my past and write toward my future —
        a love letter at last given,
                my fortune taking toll and assessing
                        this condition.
I value my sentiment and challenge this
        rehearsal,
                like a drum, beating —
        a system chanting —
                I change my mind like you or
                        your hats.
I visit trusted angles and sail
        past the meridian —
        selling eagles and visiting
                scriptures, passed.
I visit your bald eagle
        and say that we are 1.
I value my sentence
        and recreate my own dreamland
                in your hand.
I imitate said reasons like myself,
        chanting.
I reach under the
        stairs and select
                a new disc
                        that will change me,
                                myself and this rule.

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