The Price of Corduroys in 2065: A Story of Inflation Outside an Unnamed French Prison by Sophia Walsh


She was finally free

Wind blowing in her hair

As she spun in the night

Without a shutter open to the square

Or a light in sight

She was finally free

As her hushed whisper turned to joyous song,

She had almost forgotten

It had been so long.

But once she started

The words flowed free

Like the flames of a fire

Bright and seen

She was finally free

She had spent so long

Tried so hard

Studied the innuendos

Till the dark

Turned to dawn

And yet

Here she stood

in the street

Shackles on her feet

For her young boy

Who had dared steal a pair of corduroys

He was saved

Loved filled her heart

Once overcome with fear

Spilling into her lungs

The time was near

She was finally free

The two guards

Had begun to fall behind

They never got quite used

To seeing the eyes

Of the prisoners they took

To the other side

She was finally free

And as the gunshot

Rang out through the air

It hit the girl dead

Square in the head

Right in those streets

Over there

She was finally freed

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