She walks the path she owns,
The tar she pours alone,
The way she goes at speed,
Her pace not one to reach,
A race won; the life gained,
There she smiles, there she works,
Soon to kiss thus to be,
Gives the life, gives it all
Not a girl, not a toy;
Her strength: love; her way just,
To know her to know more,
To throw her is no more:
She’s free; she breathes; she lives,
Her share be her great share,
Nor at guilt to take all,
Nor at fault to bait all,
She talks, she sings, she sees,
She’s living, she’s alive.

Civilisation, Life, Poetry, Works
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