Never been held down, but done had enough;
there comes a time for every brave-face girl
to be leavin’.
It ain’t for the world and its shanty towns,
seaside resorts and skyscrapers to see
what a muscle at work can do,
but they’ll be watchin’ anyway,
and they might well catch a glimpse.
Oh, the sands for safety are falling hard,
too dwindling to pay them mind,
on a throbbing head whose cautious thoughts
and generous hands have already flung its gifts
along the useless shore.
What more could she waste
when there’s nothing gone wrong?
Though it’s not reckless restlessness
keeps her lungs hot, it ain’t anything
worthy of frettin’ about-
just the call of leavin’ times
which most will tune out,
though some fiery children,
their hair in the wind,
will follow ’til dusk’s uprising.