Freestyle Poem by Timothy Long

No rhyming or time explaining why some are poor as slaves, and others rich as free men, the sky was the limit in night ground yard, be free as your style true as you can do, all free men die for rights, never did the shadows disappear, repressed from bigger gambles in life, messed up in so many ways, beware into the end of ends, the notion of interpel tactic, interfere pickering's of deviant imagination, the way of all as should be, curst storm by day but shots fired by night, sacrifices to live, does it pay off, never to be down as we are free to be whatever we want to be, to survive freely in style the not any other denial, best known then any other style, this is known as the freestyle.