243 – Fuge

She would run
Everyday
For the rest
Of her life.

She didn’t care.
It was
A small price
To pay.

All it took
Was the guts
To cut the last wire
Connecting her
To the stranger
She once was.

She darted out
His golden cage,
On a two-wheeled
Streak of freedom.
Ready to burn
Her past.

His dogs
Would try
To hunt her,
But this was
Her turf.

Roaring down
The desert road
On a flash
Or red and black,
She can’t hold back
The laughter.

A fallen angel
Bored of heaven,
She jumps gladly
Into what
He thought
Was hell.

To her
It was simply
Home.

• • •

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