Walls
by June Nash
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Blithe, whimsical, I want to be
Wary stoned walls won’t release me
Be free to act, even to dress
An unhindered adventuress
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Free-wheeling thoughts that come to mind
Are tempered with practical binds
Mountain climbs foreshadowed with falls
Tight fitting clothes could breed cat calls
.
Need step outside this brick lined cell
Built it myself, now feels like hell
What once was safe and comforting
Now necessitates some aborting
June Nash 
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