Wild Child: The Remarkable Case Of Victor Of Aveyron
Running through woods in a fraying linen shirt
Hair, a nest of brown knots,
Eyes, like a deer
Child of fresh air
And wind
Snow and earth
Christened “Victor”
Ripped from roots and trees,
Dragged into captivity of civilization
Unable to open a single door,
Learning only two words,
Milk and God.
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