Poetry

I'm soaring, it's roaring, no longer boring;
I'm laughing, it's flying, no longer crying;
No longer captive, I'm smiling, it's freedom;
I'm crazy, it's hazy, no longer angry;
I'm blooming, it's fumming, no longer grooming;
No longer destined, I'm unread, it's unsaid.

(p.s. if anyone wants to know what a triumph saint can look like, it is here at this link: http://motorivista.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/triumph-saint-motorbikes-422x281.jpg )