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I follow the Eagle of my dream,

As it flies high above a stream.

It soars in beautiful grace,

All around this gracious place.


I stare in wonder as it swoops,

Dives, and loop-de-loops,

I wish to be an eagle,

And look down from such an angle.

I wish so hard that I might die,

That I might be able to try

To be this gracious bird,

And only be heard,

By those who are gracious,

In these mountains so spacious.

I would love to take flight,

From such a height.


I dream of seeing through the eyes,

Of a bird that size.

Then realize it is no dream,

Things are as they seem.


I have become a graceful thing,

And have changed my entire being.

I no am free to live my way,

Until my dying day.


I can take flight,

Oh! Such a sight,

To look down on this world,

As away it is hurled.


I cast away the pain,

This hurting stain,

And fly, yes flee from it,

Never again to live with it.


Then I wake,

And my wings I shake,

And then I realize,

My real, true size:


I am an Eagle


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