Hour 23, Wild Child

I was a wild child,
twigs in my hair
and the wind under my feet.

I could not be contained
within four walls,
aching to run and be free.

Animals, birds, and bugs
were my companions
and my friends.

People could not be trusted,
but trees never hurt me,
sheltered within their branches.

I disappeared for entire days,
curled like a deer in a hollow,
silent and dappled in shade.

It took some years to tame me,
an elemental contained
by words, the alchemical spell of books.


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