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May 2015
She ran freely in the wind, hair in disarray
Faster than the alpha wolves every night and day
Who nipped at her heels, though she never backed down
At the prospect of conjuring herself a new crown.
Her craft wasn't thieving, deceiving or conceiving
Pandora was a girl consumed by achieving
The next great adventure, taken like a pill
Her soul yearned for a magic touch to fulfill
Her wildest dreams; curiosity, sated
Pale hands; a gilded box; finally, elated
That all the things she never knew were beneath one lid
How DARE the world deprive her and declare they forbid
Efficacious Pandora to chain her passion
Spinelessly docile just wasn't her fashion
So she carefully crept in the dark of night
And beheld in the box a new strange light
An army of miseries glowing vivid and real
(But she had never lived with behavior ideal)
Now Hate, Selfisness, and Jealously shone like jewels
But at least I made the history books now, Pandora thought,
because I
                       ­     the
A little sick, a little sleepy, thinking of Greek mythology. Constructive criticism is always very welcome!
Ivy Swolf
Written by
Ivy Swolf
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