Hate it void love

 

Up together

Atlas shrugged, or so it's sold,

But even as he broke the mold,

Must've wished for a hand to hold,

A burden shared, a story told.

For even giants, strong and bold,

Sometimes need help, before they're cold.

Truth thought right servitude

 

First another it socialism

 

it experience suffering possibility

 

Britches biggerer

 He struts in finery, not truly his own.

His decrees echo from a imitated throne.

His narrative built, on seeds he has sown.

But history's harvest is strangely grown.

Freedom truth mind own