He calls himself a runaway, A bandit, a thief, a liar, But I have seen a sacred place Trapped inside of him, And he is just as human As he claims not to be.
He wanders the backroads at twilight, Whistling, wondering, waiting, Watching for a double rainbow; He’s seen six, and is living for the seventh, “Another sin,” he’ll say, And maybe he’ll never find it, Or perhaps he’ll be released, somehow.
Poem based on the prompt: Write a poem using the words and phrases "runaway," "double rainbow," "another sin," "somehow released," and "runaway."
You can find more of my poetry at caitlincacciatore.wordpress.com