They call us lazy, they call us lost,
Bound by the weight of a judgment tossed.
But in our hearts, a fire still glows,
A quiet strength the world may not know.
They name us distracted, heads in the sky,
Yet stars are born where dreams dare to fly.
Who says the road must be straight and clear?
What if our path winds, far and near?
No label can hold the truth of our soul,
A story too vast, a journey too whole.
For we are rivers, wild and free,
Flowing toward oceans no eyes can see.
So strip away the words they say,
Let us dance in our own sacred way.
For lazy is rest when the heart is weary,
Distracted is wonder when life feels dreary.
We are not less, we are not more,
We are the tide on a limitless shore.
Free to be messy, free to be whole,
Free to define the depths of our soul.
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