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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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