424 – Fugitive

Open eyes,
White knuckles,
Red hair
And gritted teeth.

The power
Of wild horses
Between Her legs.

The black asphalt road
Until you meet
The inner wizard.

Dodging flying monkeys
And their flashing
Red and blue lights
On bare wits.

No brave lion,
Wise scarecrow
Or kind tin-man
In this story.

Just crazy freedom
Of someone not willing
To be scrubbed clean
Just to fit in.

They want to put her out
With the rest of the trash,
But she’s not ready to go
Without a fight.

Open eyes,
White knuckles,
Red hair flowing
In the wind.

• • •

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