An Iron Broom
Cleaning with an iron broom the rough edges
Scraping along a long line of old habits.
Freedom is what I wish for.
Freedom from the old spotlessness of past ages
Where I stepped on the threshold of bright beauty,
And dirt lived safely under the thick carpet,
For everyone to ignore.
I prefer a room of clean beauty
Beyond the place where the ants walk.
I gave my love to the beach and the ocean
Where the free people live, where the flowers bloom
To beautify the long road of old habits,
Aired out by the fresh breeze, washed by the ocean
And blessed by the mighty one.
Scraping along a long line of old habits.
Freedom is what I wish for.
Freedom from the old spotlessness of past ages
Where I stepped on the threshold of bright beauty,
And dirt lived safely under the thick carpet,
For everyone to ignore.
I prefer a room of clean beauty
Beyond the place where the ants walk.
I gave my love to the beach and the ocean
Where the free people live, where the flowers bloom
To beautify the long road of old habits,
Aired out by the fresh breeze, washed by the ocean
And blessed by the mighty one.
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