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Cracking open the carapace

Sloughing off the skins

running through the forests

scraping all my shins.

All I really want to do

is find the girl within.

I rarely write a poem

which is metered or with rhyme,

I usually find they miss a beat

or fall into their own time.

So as I continue with this creation,

I find it breaking down,

Into my usual style.

Less rigid, less formal,

no rules for her to fight against,

come on little girl, come and share

this space with me and we

can be as free as we choose to be together.

The free spirit,

who runs wild at night

through forests, dark and mysterious.

Wood nymph, spirit girl, refuses to be held

in captivity, though many tried.

They all lost their wild child,

held captive in an embrace

which was not free or loose,

which wasn’t open when she turned

to offer her own free love and passion.

The burden of your needs and expectations

are just too heavy for her shoulders.

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