Runaway

The Runaway

At the edge of a rocky roadside, stood a little girl, it was here she came in dirty rags, with saddened eyes and fingers crossed wishing for something more

Her hair entangled from neglect, her feet were bare and scarred, a cruel reminder of poverty shadowed the fairy tales of yore

But here she came with fingers crossed everyday at four

Rush, rush, run away, soar among clouds,  mind the branches, mind the thorns, mind the stones below

 Search for shelter from the rains, hide under the willow trees, rest your head against its shoulder and close your eyes to dream

Rush, rush to find yourself, secure it with lock and keys take it with you in your heart and hide from the thieves

Now she stands in luxury at her gabled door, the baubles weigh heavily upon her slender frame, and the gems sparkle brightly with commitment  on her crossed finger; as the clock in the distance ticks slowly on, and chimes everyday at four