A Family, they are called.

The narrowest path I
have crossed are the minds
of people on the
lands of earth.
Freedom was sometimes
the right to ask
permission to breathe.
Some people are black holes that
drags us to the shadows and
nails us to the wall of self doubt.
Don’t let out your tongue
when it tickles you tight
to spill out some hot coffee
on their little cute face!
On other side are people who
build you the strongest bridge
to cross the river
rather than not letting you.
A family, they are called.

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